


Forget Me Not

by Tanngerine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Comedy, Fluff, Future KiyoYachi, Gen, I swear this will have a happy ending, I'm not even in college what do college people do, Kageyama's more positive, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not everyone is paired up romantically some are just good friends, Slow Build, Tsukishima's a lowkey hacker, also Hinata can back talk, and less angry, depressed thoughts, platonic kenhina, they're totally best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanngerine/pseuds/Tanngerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life, Kageyama has had to put up with a strange condition, in which every person he's ever met eventually forgets him. To spare himself some grief he decides never to befriend anyone else, living the first few weeks at Karasuno in solitude. However, he finds himself making an exception for Hinata Shouyou, someone who he never thought he'd be lucky enough to cross paths with but did. When that path is bloodied by an accident however, Kageyama is forced to withdraw himself once more, but they finally meet and rebuild their relationship again.</p><p>(In other words, just another college AU, albeit with just a little fantasy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Promise?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not lying when I say I don't know where this is going. //laughs. Ah well, I'll just let things unfold themselves ^x^ Thank you for your interest, and hope you enjoy!

Kageyama, ever since he could remember, was stuck with a truly curious condition—no matter how close he became with those around him, no matter how long he was acquainted with them and how many hellos and goodbyes he exchanged, people always forgot him. It wasn’t the kind of forget that one just remembered after a short while either—not like, forgetting your binder in class and only realizing after leaving the building, nor like seeing the face of someone you made a promise with only just then remembering what you’d promised them. No; Kageyama was completely wiped from their mind.

It started in elementary, when every year, he realized that he had to completely reintroduce himself. On the first day he would always be met with crowds of students that were huddled together in friendships they had formed in years prior, while he was left standing outside the close circles. His class was the same through every single year—yet, after break ended, no one remembered him. He never told his parents—it didn’t seem like something they’d believe.

And so, he made these “yearly friendships.” It wasn’t easy; sometimes he’d refer to something he did with someone a year prior by accident, and they’d look at him oddly, and say, “That never happened.” At the end of the year he always spent the day huddled in his room, trying to keep his heart from falling to pieces knowing that everyone would forget him, and the same in the beginning of the year, because indeed they had. There were only a few people he clicked with, and he never bothered to expand his horizons, in small hopes that there’d be someone, _anyone,_ who would remember him for the upcoming year.

There never was.

In middle school, it was worse. He was lucky to find anyone who lasted a few months. In fact, the only person who managed the feat was a straight faced fellow, Kindaichi. The only people who’ve never forgotten his entire existence (as, they had forgotten he was there sometimes, giving him a puzzled look before remembering that yes, they had a son) were his parents.

And that’s not to say he was friends with Kindaichi. In fact, the two got along as well as oil and water. It was around this time that he began immersing himself in volleyball, to take away the pain of being constantly forgotten over and over again, and also because it was simply fun. It was the best thing in the world. But he would look at everyone else at practice, watching them idly chatter away during practice, watching their eyes glitter up for something other than volleyball, watch them only go halfway and let him sprint all the way down the road on his own, and wonder, why, why, _why_ they weren’t giving their all in this sport he loved so much. He kept running further and further, until his skill was exponentially greater than his peers, his desire to win unmatched.

But he had run so far ahead that when he turned around, no one was there.

Case in point, he didn’t get along very well with his team. In fact, the only reason he knew Kindaichi didn’t forget him was because they happened to pass each other at the last day of the year, and he gave him the very same look he did on the day when he abandoned him.

(He would never forget that look. Not for the rest of his life.)

It hurt. It hurt being forgotten. It hurt being consciously left behind. By the last day of his last year in middle school, he had come to the conclusion that it was simply better not to make himself known in the first place. His personality became less pleasant. He brushed off any who were brave enough to speak to him. And it worked, to an extent. In the days that followed, no one else forgot him.

(Though, that was because no one knew him in the first place.)

(He would always tell himself that it was fine, that it still hurt a little less.)

...

Come high school, he was little more than a ghost. No one remembered him for more than a few days. Even his parents had completely forgotten who he was. Not that it mattered, since they were home less and less. The few occasions he did see them, he just passed himself off as their nephew sent to stay over, which would fool them fine, as the resemblance was certainly there, and they’d rush off to work as always. He decided not to join the volleyball team, believing that having to re-acquaint himself with his teammates constantly would be a pain and likely drag down the team’s coordination.

He still played by himself, however, on the riverbank near the bridge. No one bothered him, and he could play as long as he pleased.

That is, until one day, when the sky was still pink and leaves were just beginning to fall, a clumsy idiot had decided to fall off the fucking bridge.

In the few minutes that followed, he had never been so cold in his whole life. He didn’t know what had possessed him to jump in, shoes and all, after the student that plunged into the water with an enormous _‘splash.’_ All he knew was the water stinging his eyes as he struggled to keep both himself and the other person afloat, and the panicked, abrupt yells that came from the person that was flailing beside him. Heaving one large breath, he flung him by the shirt collar out of the water, where the boy made an unsightly landing on the grass. Kageyama followed suit, dragging himself out of the river before collapsing on the ground in exhaustion.

“I’m so sorry about that! Are you alright?! Should I call the ambulance?!” a voice squeaked in front of him. He looked up to see a teenager with an orange, unruly mass of hair, undoubtedly from his own school. They weren’t in the same class, but he vaguely recognized him from entrance exams. (He noticed him only because the youth had slammed his head on the desk in frustration.)

“No, it’s fine... just pipe down for a second,” he grumbled, trying to knock water out of his ears. Did he even have a change of clothes on him? Ah, right, he had his gym uniform. It would have to do.

“Here!” The student held out a towel to him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t use it yet—and I don’t really need it since I’m on the way to practice. I’ll dry off if I run fast enough,” he rambled. If only to shut him up, Kageyama took it, nodding his thanks. As he dried off, the redhead changed into what he supposed were his practice clothes, stuffing everything else into a plastic bag.

“Man, you really surprised me though! I didn’t think anyone was out here,” he commented brightly, to which Kageyama gave a flabbergasted expression.

“ _I_ surprised you? How do you think I felt seeing someone just drop right off the bridge?! I thought you were a kid or something!” he said crossly, tossing the towel back to him.

“Hey!” the person protested. “I’m not _that_ short!”

“By my standards, you’re pretty fucking short.”

He made a face at him. “Yeah, well, to hell with your standards.” At first, Kageyama thought he was angry, but he only laughed. “I’m Hinata Shouyou, first year! Sorry to tell you that I know how to swim, but thanks for saving me anyway.”

Kageyama groaned. He jumped after this idiot for no reason? “...Kageyama Tobio, first year,” he supplied reluctantly. It didn’t matter—this guy wouldn’t remember his name anyway, come sunrise the next day. “Do me a favor and don’t make jumping off the bridge a habit, it messes up my concentration.”

“Like I said, you surprised me, and I tripped and fell off,” he said defensively.

“Tripped sideways?” Kageyama snorted.

“Sideways,” he confirmed, then looked at him curiously. “Were you working on something?”

He glanced over to the volleyball a little ways off behind him. “...Serves.”

Hinata’s face suddenly lit up, and began jumping excitedly. “You play volleyball?! I do too! Are you a setter?! Are you in the school’s club?! What middle school did you come from?!”

The barrage of questions only became more incomprehensible as each second passed, and he held up his hand in attempt to stop him. “I used to be a setter, for Kitagawa Daiichi. I don’t play competitively anymore though,” he said stiffly, hoping that answered most of his inquiries. In spite of himself, he asked curiously, “And you’re...?” in reference to his position.

Hinata puffed out his chest. “Middle blocker!”

He choked. “No offense, but that’s supposed to be for like, tall people?”

He stuck his tongue out at him in response. “I may be short, but I can jump! I’ll prove it to you!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes, much to the redhead’s annoyance, but suddenly remembered something. “Weren’t you headed to practice or something?”

The self-proclaimed middle blocker paled, as he rushed to gather his things. “Oh god Daichi’s gonna kill me—thanks for everything!” he shouted, printing up the hill and back onto the bridge. Hinata leaned over, and shouted, “Meet me here tomorrow, alright? Promise!”

Behind him, his hand clenched. _Tomorrow_. There would be no tomorrow. “Just go already.”

 _“Promise!”_ he said insistently. His eyes shone bright with determination, an array of oranges and reds and gold that made the sunset sky look colorless in comparison.

“...I promise,” he finally said, wincing as a small shred of hope lighted inside him.

Hinata grinned, then dashed off, leaving him to stand in uncomfortable silence that remained.

After a few moments, he collapsed heavily to the ground, covering his eyes with his arm. The first time he’s been happy and excited in the longest time, and he had to tear it all down to the ground.

...But no matter what he tried, he couldn’t. He tried his best to rip apart the image of Hinata’s smile in his mind, tried to erase every last word, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He hated it. He hated himself for getting attached, and hated Hinata for barging into his life when he would inevitably leave him without a trace.

But most of all, he hated that, undoubtedly, tomorrow would come.

...

He considered going home right after school.

There was no way Hinata would remember. If he got his hopes up and went, it would definitely add another scar to his growing collection.

The problem was, however, that he already _had_ his hopes up.

It was annoying—this annoying, buzzing thing fluttering around his thoughts throughout the entire day. He felt like an idiot being excited about his first date.

 _I am definitely not going,_ he declared inwardly, seating himself for his first class.

_There’s no way I’m going,_ he thought next period as he moved through the hall. _Don’t kid yourself, no one will be there._

A few hours later, at the vending machine, he jabbed the button and muttered, “He’s probably already forgotten me.”

At the sound of the last bell, he walked stiffly out the building. _I’m going home—I’m going **straight** home_ —

Hours later, the sun had long set, with only the moon to keep him company. He stared listlessly at the sky, volleyball sitting on the ground beside him. Light winds ruffled his hair and the grass beneath him. The river lapped at the shore, and would’ve been relatively calming, had it not been the one place he should have been miles and miles away from.

Regretting his decision with a burning passion, he thought, _...Why the fuck am I here._

He knew it—it was way late, Hinata had forgotten, and he was a complete dumbass for thinking he would be any different. Kageyama sat up, placing the ball in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He tried to dull the pain, but didn’t have much success. It wasn’t like this was the first time it happened, he knew he’d get over it eventually. But _god_ did it hurt like hell. He growled. He only had himself to blame for this. If only he just, _ran away_ or something after saving Hinata—

“Kageyama!”

He jumped slightly, whirling around to look behind him. Hinata flashed his familiar grin, waving at him before leaping down from the bridge onto the grass.

He stood up, and asked in shock, “You remembered?”

Hinata looked at him oddly. “Of course I would! I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole day! Coach even got mad at me, saying I was distracted.” He pouted.

Trying to suppress a smile, he retorted, “That’s not my fault.”

“It totally is, Bakageyama! Sorry I’m late by the way, I should have set a time.” He blinked in surprise as Hinata patted him on the shoulder. “You look really happy to see me though—did you miss me that much?”

“A-as if!” he stuttered with a half-hearted glare, to which Hinata only laughed and picked up the volleyball on the ground.

“Ever since you said you were a setter, I’ve really wanted to play with you! Our setter is super nice, but he doesn’t toss to me much, since I usually get blocked.”

“I wonder why.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Hinata grumbled, tossing the ball to him. Kageyama caught it with one hand, and spun it on his finger.

“So... toss to me!” Hinata called, dashing off somewhere to his right. “It doesn’t matter where, I’ll hit it!”

 _It doesn’t matter where?_ he thought, shaking his head. It wasn’t exactly easy to hit a toss if there was no plan whatsoever as to where it was going.

Nonetheless, he complied, and learned very quickly that Hinata was incredibly athletic in his own, clumsy way. The redhead wasn’t kidding when he said he could jump—though shorter, combined with his godlike reflexes and agility, he had no doubt that Hinata could reach heights even he couldn’t. They practiced tosses and spikes for a good number of hours, Kageyama silently marveling at his boundless energy and enthusiasm for the sport. They finally preformed their first quick attack after numerous trials, and he stood silently as Hinata cheered and leaped throughout the field, overcome with excitement.

“One more!” Hinata shouted, grinning at the setter. In the darkness, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, before he raced after him and responded, “Of course!”

...

The days that followed were quite similar. The first few evenings after that, Kageyama would sit in the dark in near overwhelming anxiety, afraid for his life that Hinata would forget, but he never did. He always showed up with that smile of his, and eventually, he learned to return one of his own. Despite both of them being tired from their individual practices, they would play until they barely had the strength to drag themselves home, laughing and bickering and yelling the whole while. Before long, with Kageyama’s help, Hinata’s reflexes had improved even more, and Kageyama itched more than ever to play a game.

“Why don’t you join the volleyball team?” Hinata asked not long after they first met, clearly seeing (though far from admitting) that the younger boy was a near prodigy and would have been a huge asset.

“...It’s complicated.” He shrugged, knowing that his condition was farfetched and unrealistic and didn’t particularly want to go into detail about it. Even if Hinata could remember him, that wouldn’t stop him from leaving Kageyama after deeming him batshit insane.

“How?” Hinata huffed. “Don’t you see? We’re invincible together! With everyone else, I bet we could take our school to the nationals!”

“They wouldn’t like me,” he stated. It wasn’t a lie—at the very least, they wouldn’t like him for long.

His eyes widened as he heard Hinata say, “ _I_ like you.”

He sat in heated silence as the redhead quickly tried to correct himself. “Ah—no, I don’t like you—well I _do_ but—you’re just...”

_Amazing._

“...Tolerable,” he lied, then quickly turned away.

Kageyama poked him in the face with a water bottle. “Smooth.”

Hinata smiled sheepishly, then bumped into him with his shoulder. “Everyone’s really kind, Kageyama. Well, except for maybe Tsukishima—but that’s beside the point! You’d have no problem fitting in.” He laughed, but it wasn’t his usual one. “I bet if you were there, they’d take me out as a regular right away.”

He snorted. “You don’t replace a middle blocker with a setter, dumbass. And you said it yourself— _we’re_ invincible. There’s no point if we don’t play on the same court.”

Hinata looked at him briefly before stuffing his head between his knees. Kageyama looked away as well, wondering when he decided to be such a sap. Corn. There was corn everywhere.

“So you _do_ get it! Join us!”

_I’d love to._

“...I can’t,” he said quietly before getting up. He brushed off his shorts, before holding out a hand. “You have a game soon, right? Let’s do some more receives—you still suck at them.”

Hinata huffed. “I do not. They’re decent now.”

“’Decent’ won’t get you to the nationals.”

“Neither will an amazing setter who lets his talent rot by a river,” Hinata was quick to reply.

“I don’t have a choice!” he snapped, then took a deep breath. “I-I’m sorry, it’s just—“ He ran a hand through his hair, before it settled on his face. “...Fine.” It’s only for a day, and he had Hinata now, so...

The redhead looked at him elatedly, and he turned away. “Take me to your teammates tomorrow... then you’ll see why.”

...

The next day went more grandly than Hinata could have ever imagined. After requesting that Kageyama try out playing with the team for a bit and introducing him, they immediately shifted into a practice match. Also as requested, he and Hinata were put on the same side, and were able to blow the entire team away with their quicksets and synchronization.

Daichi rubbed the back of his head. “It’s amazing—it’s almost as if the two have been playing for years.” He couldn’t get over the fact that Hinata spiked with his eyes _closed._ That just wasn’t a thing.

“Probably not for years, but I’m sure they’ve been practicing together,” Suga said, smiling. “You’ve noticed, right? How Hinata shows up dead tired every day.”

The captain nodded, watching as they scored another point against the other first years. “He’s an amazing setter, and Hinata plays much better with him. I wonder if he would consider joining...”

Sugawara’s smile faltered for a second, but was quick to cover it up before Daichi noticed. “That’s a great idea.”

...

“I can’t believe it,” Hinata said in frustration, kicking at the grass. “They were acting so weird today—I mean they totally _loved_ you Kageyama but—how can they all pretend they don’t remember anything?!” As soon as he said it, he knew that that wasn’t the case—his teammates, at the very least, the third years, would never do something so petty and unreasonable. At the end of the practice, the captain had warmly invited Kageyama to join (which he declined, much to Hinata’s frustration) but when he mentioned wanting to bring the setter again today, they all acted as if they had no idea who he was talking about.

“They weren’t pretending,” Kageyama said, as they walked along the river. Hinata was too distressed to play properly. “I told you, right? It’s impossible for me to join a team.”

“Kageyama, you know damn well I’m stupid, and this isn’t making any sense to me,” he growled. He couldn’t help but smile, although grimly. For him to admit he’s an idiot, he had to be _really_ upset.

“It’s... hard to explain. It’s just this thing I’ve had ever since I was young—but people never seem to remember me.” He shrugged. “It didn’t used to be this bad. People would know who I was for like a year before they forgot, but up until I met you, I didn’t know anyone else who could remember me for more than a day.”

Hinata stopped in his tracks, and he turned around to see his face pointed towards the ground. “...People just forgot you? Just like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Teachers?”

“My name is in the records, so I can still attend school, but they always seem to think I’m a new student.”

“What about your parents?”

“They lasted the longest, but they don’t know me anymore either. I pretend I’m a relative staying over.”

To his surprise, Hinata’s voice cracked. “I’m really the only one?”

“You are.”

He had the wind knocked out of him as Hinata suddenly tackled him to the ground, face buried into his torso. His hands shook as they tightened around the edges of Kageyama’s shirt.

“...Isn’t it lonely?” he asked quietly.

Kageyama paused a bit to study the sky overhead, stars glittering amongst the vast space of blue. He gently brushed his hand through the older boy’s unruly hair, resting the other hand on the nape of his neck. “It was, until you came.”

“I will never, ever forget you,” Hinata said determinedly, looking up. The setter smiled, before saying, “Thank you.”

They stayed that way for a moment, before Hinata clambered off him, opting instead to lie down next to him.

“This is so unfair,” Hinata muttered, and he grunted in agreement. “All I want is to play a game with you.”

“I can party-crash one day. Maybe play when the Neighborhood Assocation drops by,” he suggested.

“I want to play in the _nationals_ with you.”

His fingers found Hinata’s, and he wove them gingerly into the smaller boy’s hand. “So do I.”

Hinata suddenly laughed. “Would you if there were five of me?”

“I would _run_ if there were five of you,” he joked.

“Rude, Bakageyama.” Hinata’s fingers tightened around his.

“Just you is enough.”

“Not for a game.”

“But it’s _enough_ ,” he asserted, and Hinata laughed once more, not quite getting what Kageyama meant, before slowly sitting up.

“Kageyama,” he prompted, who looked at him in response, brushing stray leaves away from his hair. “I’m not saying I will, but if I do—“

“Hinata, please don’t,” Kageyama interrupted with a pained expression. Hinata’s breath caught, before he continued gently, “If I _do_ forget you, by some, shitty circumstance, you have to remind me, alright? I don’t care how you do it, just...” He took a deep breath. “Make me remember again. Promise?”

“That won’t happen,” he said stubbornly.

_“Please.”_

Hinata looked at him, and in that moment, Kageyama decided that the sun that lit up his days wasn’t something far off and distant, but right beside him, in the person he called Hinata Shouyou. And he wouldn’t let go for the world.

“I promise.”

...

Oh god oh god how could he let this happen—

All around him sirens blared as they swarmed around him and the person lying on the ground. He could only keep blinking, shaking his head, trying to _change_ what he saw in front of him to no avail.

Red, red. He panicked. The sun wasn’t supposed to be red.

Ignoring all the rough yells and commands around him, he followed his best friend to the hospital, fighting as he was forcefully seated outside the emergency room before sinking forward, letting his tears fall to the polished floor.

 _It’s my fault, it’s my fault,_ he thought repeatedly. If only he walked a few minutes slower, if only he crossed the street at the next walk light instead of that one, the one the changed _just_ when a driver going too fast had swerved on ice and couldn’t stop on time. Or only if he just crossed the street faster, so Hinata didn’t have to push him out of the way—if only, if only, _if only_ —

This was his punishment. It had to be. For some reason unknown to him, he was meant to live his life in complete solitude, and instead found Hinata.

 _Please God or whatever the hell is up there,_ he thought despairingly, as his heart raced a million times faster than the monitor in the other room, _I don’t care if he never remembers me again, and I’ll never ask for anything else, just..._ He choked, and his hands trembled.

_...Just let him be alright._

...

Hinata had made a full, miraculous recovery. It was more than the Kageyama or the doctors could have ever hoped for. A few months after his surgery, he was able to return to school, and even continue playing volleyball, although he regrettably missed his last chance to play with the third years.

And he never remembered Kageyama.

True to his own word, the setter never approached him from that day forth, silently passing him in the halls, watching his games over TV, rooting him on from where the older boy couldn’t see. So many times he wanted to say something, but was locked down by his own guilt and the words he whispered to save Hinata’s life, and so could only keep moving on. The remaining years of high school passed by in that manner, until the day of the graduating ceremony, in which he said one, last goodbye from the corner of the room after getting his diploma.

After he left high school, he picked a university and took a small loan from his own parents; for Karasuno University. His financial situation didn’t allow for him to leave the city, but by taking time off volleyball (and Hinata no longer being there for him to spend his days with) he was able to earn a nearly full scholarship to attend. The thought that he’d meet Hinata again never crossed his mind, and most certainly didn’t as he sat in the library, basking in its peace and quiet.

Over the years, it had gotten easier. It used to hit him a lot harder, realizing that he would always be standing there by himself, staring into the faces of those who would never remember him but he would never forget. It used to make his heart tangle up in his throat, thinking that the eyes that lit up seeing him come into the room would never again shine in his direction. It used to make him stop in his tracks, walking past the road where he fucked up and nearly let the sun, who lit up so, so many of his days, flicker out and die on the frosted street. But every ache had been dulled by the cruel and simple passing of time, and he was able to point his life into some general direction. He hadn’t chosen a major yet, but he decided to take the freshman year at university to do so. So long as he passed his courses, figuring something out eventually shouldn’t be too difficult. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to maintain a job with this whole forgetting business, but the only way he could carry on was if he believed that there was some place out in the world for him

“Ah, hello?” someone whispered from behind him. He marked the page, not wanting to lose his spot, before turning around. 

However, the uncertain smile that greeted him stopped him in his tracks, and his grip on the book slowly weakened.

“Um... could you please tell me where this is?” the person asked, pointing at a schedule. Kageyama didn’t know whether he was being tested, cursed, blessed, or _what_ , but the fact of the matter was this:

Hinata Shouyou was standing right in front of him, and he was attending the same goddamned university.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //screams on the inside//
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Feedback on the way out is much appreciated..!! ^v^/ I wish everyone a good day!


	2. "My Neighbor is An Asshole!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just watched the latest ep of Noragami and then read Sunshine Harbour and right now I'm so emotionally broken, the world seems gray and I no longer remember what breathing is
> 
> but here have another chapter //rolls/ Thank you so much for your support..!! Your comments and kudos and bookmarks give me infinite lives, enough to endure being drowned by sadness and feels repeatedly ( *๑•̀ロ•́๑)」

“Um... could you please tell me where this is?”

There was a loud ‘thud’ as his book hit the floor, and Hinata’s gaze snapped to the source of the noise. “Ah—sorry, I didn’t mean to make you drop that.” He began reaching for it, but Kageyama, quickly said, “No, it’s fine, I was just surprised—“”

He leaned over a bit with intentions of getting the book as well, but stopped when he reached eye level with Hinata. His breathe caught, and he felt his heart stop.

They were the same. They were the same warm browns and oranges and yellows that put a sunset to shame and made him forget that there was more to the world than just him. They gave the same sense of security that he would never be left alone. They were the same eyes that he got lost in so constantly and which stared into his own the day he promised never _ever_ to forget him, so soon before he got hit—

He couldn’t take it.

Abruptly, he grabbed his book off the ground and stormed out of the library, leaving Hinata crouching in silence.

...

“No, I’m telling you, it was _really_ weird Kenma,” Hinata insisted, as the two played volleyball in the university’s gym. After asking someone else after the dark-haired teenager in the library, he was finally able to get the general location of his dorm room. Karasuno High was a relatively decent-sized school, but its layout was simple to understand; he never would have imagined that the uni would be so massive and confusing. Kenma set up another quick attack, which Hinata easily carried out.

“He looked at me like he _knew_ me. And it’s weird, because I kinda felt like I knew him too.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, wracking his brain for the umpteenth time that day to see where he might have encountered the guy.

“Ah, Shouyou, watch out,” Kenma said mildly, as another toss he had set bounced off his head. “Maybe’s he’s a fan? You got pretty famous over the last few months,” the ex-Nekoma setter suggested. It didn’t seem a too farfetched solution, being that Hinata’s jumping power was broadcasted all throughout Japan. Even if his team had lost in the finals, the boy managed to secure himself quite a name, being recognized as one of the shortest players among the top scorers in the prefecture’s history.

Hinata shook his head. “I feel like it’s something more than that...” Did he offend that person somehow? His eyes then turned to the person approaching Kenma from behind, and he called, “Hello, Kuroo!”

“Hi Shorty!” the raven-haired teenager grinned, much to his annoyance. He rested his chin in Kenma’s hair, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Hello, Tetsu,” Kenma greeted, not bothering to try and get Kuroo off him, because he knew it wouldn’t work.

“’Sup angel. Did you miss me?”

“Please don’t with the nicknames.”

“It’s not a nickname, it’s the _truth_ ,” Kuroo persisted, and the setter rolled his eyes. “Shouyou, please kick him.”

“Sure thing.” Hinata beamed almost eerily, not taking too kindly to the comment about his height.

Kuroo held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, there are lots of things I want in life, one of which is to actually live. Spare me, Your Royal Tallness.”

At the comment, Hinata’s mind wandered back to the student he met in the library, whom he noted on his way out to indeed have come height on him. For one reason or another, the name seemed fitting.

“Shouyou met someone strange in the library,” Kenma explained to Kuroo, who was puzzled by Hinata’s silence,as he rarely skipped an opportunity to lash back with something wounding. It was a good thing he had Kenma there; Kuroo considered himself to be a small, fragile child. Not that the setter ever defended him, but seeing his lovely face was enough to recover.

“Ah, really?” he asked, rolling his arm. Volleyball sounded like a nice change from unpacking all day. This whole relocating every year thing was already getting to be a bother. “Describe the fella’ to me, will you? I know lots of people.”

 “Tall, dark haired, kinda moody looking,” Hinata listed, and left it at that. In truth though, he could have gone much further. He could have mentioned how his eyes were a gradient of dark blues, specked with light and reminiscent of the sky at night. He could have mentioned how peaceful he seemed to look in the library, at least before he approached and seemingly agitated him, and that the calm demeanor was why he approached him for directions in the first place. He could have told them that the last one was actually crap, because he knew that the reason he was drawn to him went far beyond the fact the youth was reading a book quietly, and had something to do with why the student had completely frozen up when he saw him and why he stomped out of the library, and how it was driving him _insane_ that he couldn’t figure it out.

Kuroo looked thoughtful, and Hinata appreciated that he was truly trying to help him. “Ah, sorry Hinata, doesn’t really ring a bell. If you had said ‘tall, dark, and _handsome’_ however, I totally would’ve been able to help.” He grinned his usual Cheshire Cat grin, and Hinata knew where this was going. “Clue! He’s dating the cutest boy in the world—”

Obviously, so did Kenma. The said setter promptly elbowed him in the gut, pouting, sending the two into another bout of bickering, though Hinata knew it was all in good nature. He hadn’t been all that surprised when Kenma told him that he and Kuroo had started dating in their third year—they always seemed to have something between them that no one could interfere with—and he felt happy that they were getting along just as well, if not better.

“Shouyou! We’re starting soon!” his friend called, and looked to see the company Kuroo had brought with him. They weren’t all familiar faces, but there were indeed enough to play a game.

Hinata grinned. He could worry about the person from the library later; surely, they would meet again, and soon. It only seemed right for them to.

“Coming!”

...

His luck was the worst. It really had to be. He literally couldn’t think of a single thing that could make things worse. In fact, if the end of the world were to come that very moment, he would welcome it with open arms.

He couldn’t bring himself to watch all of the other boy’s games, but he’s seen enough to know damn well that Hinata could have gone to some elite, top-ranking college that bred players for the V.League, so long as they had a setter that could make use of him. He had everything necessary in a professional player, save for height, which anyone could agree that he made up for with his ability and mental fortitude. He could have even gone to _America_ if he wanted. Why did he choose not to leave their hometown?

 _Or maybe it wasn’t a choice?_ he thought, as he walked quickly and dodged people throughout the halls. Another option was if Hinata didn’t want to go pro, which was ridiculous, considering how much he had yammered on about it when he knew him. His eyes scanned the number on the wall, and he slowed a little, taking out his key.

A small space opened before him as he pushed open the door. He wasn’t quite used to it yet, being that the first time he saw it was a few mornings ago, but he liked his room so far. It had everything he needed—a bed, a desk, shelves. And everything was in blue, his favorite color, or something to match it. Above his bed sat a window, which he opened occasionally, and he took the opportunity of the nice weather to do so now.

Most importantly, however, it was single resident. He wouldn’t have to worry about someone calling the cops on him every day because a stranger they didn’t recognize was in their room. Thankfully.

He collapsed on the bed, sitting the book on top of his face. He had nothing to do but read or play volleyball somewhere—the professors gave him a syllabus, but the university hadn’t issued ID cards to freshmen yet so he couldn’t go to the library. Other than that, he was assigned no immediate homework.

He snorted when he realized that he was actually thinking about passing the time with homework. Once upon a time, his head was filled with volleyball, and only volleyball, and homework was basically Kageyama repellant. Hinata probably would have gotten a heart attack if he saw him checking out books at the library in Karasuno.

He’d started hitting the books more and his volleyball less when he realized how dire his situation was, sometime halfway through his second year. His parents weren’t going to remember him anytime soon, and they weren’t going to pay for some relative they barely knew to attend college. He had to get a recommendation or a job, the latter of which was slightly (extremely) difficult due to his circumstances. So he opted for the former. Ideally, he would have played volleyball to get it, but of course, life hated him, and that wasn’t going to happen, and so he had to become a study maniac. Really though, all he needed was time to figure things out before getting stuck out in the world, time college gave him.

It was frustrating, watching everyone else just carrying about their lives around him. He felt as though time was short for him, as if a clock were ticking above his head, dictating his fate. Any moment, it felt as though his existence could be completely be wiped away. People would turn in his direction and see no one standing there, much less remember him. The thought frightened him so much that sometimes his heart would just stop.

Hinata had made him forget. He made him forget that he could never live amongst most people, made him feel like he was normal and he could live a normal life like everyone else. He should have known that it was too good to be true, meeting him.

... _He’s still short_ , Kageyama thought, closing his eyes and letting the book rest on his face. There were some obvious differences, but appearance-wise, he hadn’t changed much at all. The same gravity-defying mass of orange hair, the same eyes that reminded him he existed, the same smile that had as many variations as there were clouds in the sky, the same hand he had come so, so close to holding, but always backed out at the last moment, stopped by a small part of him that worried what would happen if he got too close.

 _I can’t let him come near me,_ he thought, hand shaking as he scrunched up the sheets. He’d managed this long without Hinata, and he’d have to bring it out from within himself to do it for the rest of time. Even if the boy would be around him. Constantly.

He groaned, and flipped onto his stomach, likely permanently creasing some of the pages in the book. He had a long, horrible, and daunting path ahead of him.

...

He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he did. He woke up to a dark sky and a cold breeze, which lazed into the room. Despite the winds not being all that much of a bother, he shut the window anyway, not taking kindly to the thought of bugs. Mosquitoes were such useless creatures.

A knock suddenly same at his room, and he jumped. He glanced at the clock and clambered off the bed, realizing it was stupid-o-clock at night and he had yet to take a shower and all that other business.

He opened the door, wondering who on earth was looking for him at this time and why, and was greeted by a cheerful, genuine smile, which quickly turned downward upon seeing who he was. “It’s you!” Hinata exclaimed, after recovering from his shock.

Kageyama quickly slammed the door shut.

“...Rude as _hell_ ,” came his voice from the other side of the door. “Um, you plan on locking your roommate out for the rest of your life?”

“I literally don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he bit back, pushing his full weight against the door as Hinata tried unsuccessfully to break in. “This is a single room.”

“That’s not what my schedule says. I checked like, four hours ago,” he said in between vain attempts of throwing himself against the door.

Christ, their hall mates were going to hate them. “Do you seriously think you can retain information for hour hours? Check again.” He paused as a rustling of paper sounded, followed by complete silence.

“...It’s the one next to yours.”

He had to suppress a groan. It wasn’t as if they were sharing the same room or anything, but that was still too close for comfort. “Thought so. Good night.”

“No, wait!” Hinata protested. “Can you please open your door? I get that it’s not my room, but I need to check something.”

“No. I’m tired.” _Like hell I am,_ he thought. He wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next few hours even if he tried.

_“Please.”_

He said it in the exact same tone he had said it that night, and it made him want to scream. His hand trembled as he opened the door, standing face to face with Hinata, and he struggled to control his breathing as he noticed it becoming shallower by the second.

Hinata studied him for a few, long moments, before saying, “I knew it, you do look familiar... Have we met before?”

“We went to the same high school, but never really talked,” he said, half lying. They had talked for hours and hours on end, every day, about everything under the sun. Though, mostly about volleyball.

“I... see,” Hinata said hesitantly, not completely buying it. “It’s just—I don’t know, if I really thought you were just a classmate I passed a few times I’d leave it at that, but it feels like—“ He shook his head, realizing he was beginning to ramble, and shot him a smile. “Sorry, it doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. Nice to meet you, neighbor! I’m Hinata Shouyou, first year. What’s your name?”

God was truly unkind.

_If I tell you my name, will you remember me?_

He felt everything go numb. “...It’s none of your business,” he said flatly, before closing the door on him again. He leaned with his back against the door, feeling his knees going weak. If he gave him his name, he’d ask more questions, ask for more things of him, and he’d find himself unwilling to turn him down.

“So rude,” he heard Hinata mutter, and he couldn’t decide whether or not he was meant to hear it. “Well, sorry for being _nice_ , but at least lie down or something, alright? I know idiots don’t catch colds, but you look under the weather and may be an exception, I wouldn’t know.” His wry words were followed by the sound of retreating footsteps, and he sunk to the floor, burying his head in his knees. Hinata had never spoken to him with that voice before, and it didn’t feel pleasant.

But he would have to endure it.

Feeling restless, he grabbed his volleyball from the corner of the room and stalked outside, locking his door in a hurry. A few hours of the sport he loved most would surely distract him.

(Even if it hurt him, at the same time.)

...

Hinata: kenma im gonna fuckin scream send help

Kenma: ? are you in danger?

Hinata: no, actually i might be safer here with his scary ass face around

Kenma: his?

Hinata: my neighbors-hes a complete asshole! i tried asking for his name but he was all like, ‘none of your business’ like wtf does he live on the wrong side of the bed

Kenma: ah, is he the one from the library? fate works strangely.

Hinata: oh yeah, he is. guess i shoulda mentioned that, my bad

Hinata: i really feel like hes hiding smth but clearly hes not gonna tell me. idec anymore

Kenma: i’m pretty sure you do care.

Hinata: humor me kenma it’s like 12 o’ clock

Hinata: holy shit i think my neighbor just left his room

Kenma: maybe he’s off to shower?

Hinata: not unless hes gonna shower with a volleyball oh my gOD

Hinata: KENMA HE PLAYS VOLLEYBALL!!

Hinata: I WANNA KNOW WHAT POSITION

Kenma: i thought you said you didn’t care about him.

Hinata: I CARE NOW

Kenma: shouyou, don’t follow him. it’s too late out.

Hinata: (´;︵;`)

Kenma: don’t give me that shouyou, you know i’m right.

Hinata: .....fine..............

Kenma: maybe you can ask him to play with us today? you know, when it’s not like, 1 in the morning.

Hinata: hell yES

Hinata: oh but small problem

Hinata: hes a fucking asshole

Kenma: i’m sure you’ll find a way. maybe he just needs a while to warm up to you.

Hinata: but you said today

Kenma: i said maybe today.

Kenma: if he’s in the same dorm as you, you basically have four years to ask.

Hinata: tru

Hinata: but i might not rlly have four years ;;;;;;;;;;;

Kenma: don’t think like that, shouyou. it hasn’t been bothering you much lately, right? as long as you don’t push yourself, you’ll be fine.

Kenma: aYE LIL MAMA LET ME WHISPER IN YOUR E

Kenma: sorry shouyou, that was tetsu

Hinata: LMAO

Hinata: I KINDA FIGURED

Kenma: ah, he’s getting bothersome again. i’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Kenma: my bf is so mean QAQ my heart is breaking shorty!!!

Hinata: kkkkk, gnight

Hinata: and good :)

Hinata switched off his phone and left it to charge, lying on his bed face up to the ceiling. No matter how unpleasant a personality he may have, no one who bothered to play volleyball in such ungodly hours could be a bad person. Maybe deep, deep, _deep_ (deep) down, the guy had a shred of kindness.

Nah, he was sure his neighbor wasn’t all that bad of a guy. He didn’t really get that kind of vibe from him. But why was he so adamant about not talking to him? The more he thought about it, the more he circled back to the conclusion that Hinata had done something, but couldn’t place his finger on what.

Then, it was decided. _Tomorrow, I start operation, ‘Annoy the Hell Out of—er, Get to Know the Grouchy Neighbor!’_

...

“I refuse,” Kageyama stated.

“We don’t have a choice.”

“And I will _literally_ drop out of this class. I’m not working with you.”

Hinata snorted. “You would not drop out of the class to get out of working with me. You can’t hate me that much.”

Kageyama walked faster, averting his eyes. “What are you talking about? You’re annoying, bothersome, and more stubborn than an ass. What’s not to hate?”

He glared, deciding not to point out the fact that ‘bothersome’ and ‘annoying’ were basically synonyms. Really, his kindness surprised himself sometimes. “Who’s being stubborn here? And I’m only like, selectively persistent. Like now, when we need to be in pairs for a major project, and all we have left to choose from is each other.”

“You’re being pretty damn persistent about getting my name, too.”

“Since I’m going to work with you, I need your name, Mr. None-of-Your-Business.”

“Call me that for all I care, I’m not working with you.”

Hinata suddenly cut him off, blocking his way. He tried getting around him, but lord only knew that doing such a thing was a difficult feat.

The redhead suddenly looked at him sadly, and tugged at his arm. “Did I do something to you? I’m really sorry I don’t remember, but this feels really important.”

_You’ve done everything but hurt me._

His eyes were glassy, as he slowly moved past him. Hinata soon let go, arm falling limp by his side. “You didn’t do anything.”

_What happened was my fault._

“Is that the truth?” Hinata asked softly.

_The truth might kill you._

“We barely met. You haven’t had a chance to.”

He started walking again, but turned his head with Hinata’s next words.

“...Why is it that when I look at you, I feel like you’ll disappear?”

Kageyama’s gaze was listless and empty as it met with Hinata’s, and he looked towards the ground before he began to leave.

“Because I already have.”

_So many times._

...

Kenma watched Shouyou enter the gym, expression softening when he saw how disheartened his friend appeared. “Not today?” he inquired softly.

The boy gave a weak smile in response. “Not today.”

“Let’s sit for a bit, the others won’t be here for a while,” Kenma suggested, already leading him over to the bleachers before Hinata gave a response. It was common knowledge to their friends how much Hinata’s ability spiraled downward when he was upset, and he knew he wouldn’t like playing the sport he loved most halfheartedly.

They watched the others play for a little while, sitting in silence, before Hinata said slowly, “...Kenma, I feel like I’ve done something horrible.” The said teenager blinked, and he listened quietly as Hinata began to ramble, “I don’t know if I ever told anyone, but there are huge gaps in my memory from high school. Not just from the accident, but all over the place, mostly of what I did after practice. I remember leaving and getting home, but according to my parents hours passed in between, yet I couldn’t remember a single thing I was doing to tell them.”

“Losses of memory aren’t uncommon after what you went through, Shouyou,” he said gently. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“And when I play volleyball, something doesn’t feel right either. I feel like the ball is already always in front of me, ready to spike it down right after I jump, but that’s not right and I lose focus and completely miss the tosses if I don’t keep telling myself that. Everything that’s missing—I feel like there’s something in common between them that I’m completely forgetting. And I... I think it’s...” He looked at him, almost fearfully. “I think it has something to do with my neighbor.”

“Fate works strangely. I said that last night, didn’t I?” Kenma speculated a bit, thinking on everything Hinata had told him so far. “If the memories you lost all center around that person, then the solution to getting them back would be simple—be around him more, and if you're lucky, it'll work.” He stood up, and smiled at Hinata. “It seems to me like the neighbor has reasons for him not wanting to get close to you, but if you feel like he’s important to you, you shouldn’t give up. I don’t know what kind of person he is, but as long as you’re as honest as you usually are, he shouldn’t be able to refuse you for long.” The reason why everyone loved Hinata was because he was sincere and had no ill intentions. It was almost universal—Kenma had yet to meet someone who didn’t acknowledge Hinata was a kind person.

Hinata looked at him with overwhelming gratitude and he nodded before getting up to stand beside him. “You’re right—no matter what he says, I know there’s something the neighbor isn’t happy with about me, and I’m not going to stop until I figure it out.” He paused, then added, “Thanks, Kenma. You’re the best.”

“No problem. It’s only thanks to you that I’ve come to really like a lot of things, so I’m always glad to help.”

Not for the first time, he saw why Kuroo liked him as much as he did. Kenma was always calm and thoughtful, perfect for grounding overexcited idiots like him. He was really glad the teenager had decided to attend this university.

Kenma tossed a stray volleyball at him. “You ready to play now? The others should be here soon.”

He nodded stretching his back a bit before bounding after the setter. It wasn’t just Kenma—he had amazing friends that he wouldn’t give the world for.

His injury sucked without a doubt, but he was truly happy, staying in Karasuno where the people he loved most were.

...

As he had promised, Hinata never gave up. The next day, he was pestering Kageyama to agree to be in his group again.

“I’d rather do it by myself,” the taller teen had grouched.

“Well you wouldn’t be getting a zero yourself, so would I.”

The taller teen always looked at him like he didn’t deserve to be around him. He was guarded, apprehensive, his replies were short if any at all and he could never look at him in the face for more than a few seconds. Hinata was truthfully afraid that he was actually hurting him, but something deep within him told him to never stop trying, that this person was too big a part of his life to pass by.

It took him another few days, but he finally managed to get him to agree. They both knew damn well that even one zero in the course would result in completely failing it, and retaking wasn’t exactly fun. They agreed to meet after classes to work on it in the library, a place Hinata noted that he really seemed to like.

“It’s been a week, and I still don’t know your name,” he told him.

“For fucking sakes, it’s Kageyama Tobio,” he replied with a glare, and he nearly cheered (he refrained from doing so, as he could guess Kageyama wouldn’t take kindly to being kicked out of the library.)

(“How are things going with him, Shouyou?” Kenma asked him later that day. “I’m getting there!”)

It happened slowly, but Hinata noticed Kageyama relenting. He wasn’t so stiff when he said hello, and eventually started greeting him in return. He could lightly touch Kageyama without him jumping (but he started elbowing him instead, much to his chagrin) and soon enough, they could talk normally about school-related matters. But when he asked questions like, ‘How do you know me?’ Kageyama wouldn’t answer, and completely closed himself off for the rest of the day. He learned to be careful with what he asked, and not to push him too much.

“Hey, Kageyama!” he said, bumping into him in the hallway. “You play volleyball right?”

Kageyama stumbled a little. “Y-No.”

Hinata stuck his tongue out at him. “Liar! I saw you leaving with one once.”

“I was giving it to a friend.”

“I’m the only person you speak to, Kageyama.”

“I was returning it to the gym.”

“It’s still in your room.” Hinata walked in front of him, going backwards. “I play volleyball too! I meet up with a bunch of people to play after school, you should come one day!”

“I don’t want to,” he said curtly. “Watch out, dumbass,” he said, yanking Hinata by the arm to walk next to him as someone came by.

Hinata’s eyes shone. “So you do play!”

“I don’t like playing with other people,” he responded.

“Aw...” Hinata whined, before asking, “What position do you usually play?” He flinched as pain suddenly flashed in Kageyama’s eyes, but saw it go out quickly, almost like a firefly’s light.

“...Setter. I really don’t want to play, so please don’t ask.”

There was some truth, but there was also something wrong with what he said, Hinata guessed as he watched Kageyama leave. Did he really not want to play? What was holding him back?

When he requested that he not ask him anymore... why did he sound so sad?

...

After he washed his face and dried off, Kageyama looked in the mirror. He looked more tired than usual, as he would often deal with the stress he accumulated throughout the day from speaking with Hinata by playing volleyball late into the night. He stopped practicing his tosses, since he always found himself wishing his friend were there to spike them, and instead focused on serves. They were always executed almost perfectly now—though he wouldn’t know for sure unless he played in a match, he began using water bottles as targets, and he hadn’t missed for quite a while.

He was friends with Hinata now.

 _Is this really okay?_ He purposely kept Hinata from coming too close, and never disclosed their past, but deep down he knew it was only a matter of time. One day he’d feel as strongly as he did for him before, and he’d never want to leave his side again.  

No, it was already too late. He loved Hinata, he knew it during the times they hung out in high school and he knew it the second he approached him at the library. Pushing him away was so hard, so painful, but Hinata wouldn't give up and the hope that the redhead remembered even a little bit of him, enough to want to make Kageyama his friend no matter what, was too strong for him to shut out anymore. He loved speaking with him and talking to him again made him happier than he could even begin to describe.

But at the same time, he was petrified beyond belief.

He sunk to the floor, resting his head on the sink counter and clutching the edge. He was sick, so sick of living in this kind of fear. It felt as though he were bound by thorns, tied down by nightmares of the future and thoughts that Hinata would be taken away again if he weren’t careful. The guilt hurt just _being_ , but taking even a single step in his relationship with him hurt even worse. Did Hinata now have a clock ticking above his head too, and he just couldn’t see it? Was he making it worse every time he smiled back at Hinata, fell a little more in love with him than he was the second before? Where did he draw the line? When could he accept him? What if he never could?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

All he knew was that he was slowly breaking, and that if Hinata left him again, there’d be nothing in this world to hold on to.

...

“Kenma! Are you alright?!” The teen was sitting on the ground, leg stretched out in front of him. He took Hinata’s hand and tried to get up, but his ankle wasn’t having it.

Nishinoya studied it, then said, “It’s a little swollen, but doesn’t look sprained. As long as you stay off it and ice as much as possible, you should be fine in a few days.”

“Just sit this one out sweetheart, I don’t want it getting any worse,” Kuroo said, slinging his arm across his shoulder.

“But if I left, you’d be short on a setter...” he said. One of the other players quickly waved their hand, and said, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not a serious match or anything!” They only played for fun, after all. Everyone there was just volleyball fanatics who didn’t make the university’s team or didn’t want to (or couldn’t) try out. With the exception of Nishinoya, who said he needed a little extra practice and jumped in.

“Um...” Hinata raised his hand. “If I get another setter, we can keep playing, right?” He then looked at Kenma, and quickly said, “Not that I don’t feel horrible or anything! I really do hope you get better soon!”

He wasn’t offended, however. His eyes flashed knowingly, and he smiled. “I understand. Good luck, Shouyou.”

Hinata grinned. “Thanks!” he called over his shoulder, and raced out the gym.

Beside him, Kuroo pouted. “I swear, you smile more for the shorty than for me.”

In response, he gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and he almost tripped in surprise. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

Kuroo beamed. “Hell _yes_ I do.”

...

Hinata found Kageyama in his room, reading. He never really would have taken the guy for a reader, but there he was. He’d have to ask about the book sometime.

“Kageyama! Can you do me a huge favor?” he asked, clasping his hands. “We’re down a setter and need another, can you fill in just for today?”

He didn’t look up. “Dumbass. I already said I didn’t want to play in matches.”

“It’s not a real game, only for fun! Heck, I don’t even know half the people there,” he admitted sheepishly. “Pretty please?”

After a moment Kageyama sighed, then closed the book. “On one condition.”

He expected it to be food or a time limit or something, so he quickly agreed. “Anything!”

“If I make tosses, you’re not allowed to spike them,” he said simply. “I’ll give them to everyone else.”

Hinata blinked. For some reason, the request made him want to cry and run out of the room. “Why not?”

Kageyama looked out the window. “I won’t be able to help myself anymore,” he said quietly. Before he could ask what he meant, he climbed off the bed. “Wait for me outside, I’ll be there when I’m ready.”

Another question he couldn’t ask him. He’d have to start writing them down, at this rate. He didn’t know why he felt this overwhelming sadness when he said he wouldn’t toss to him, but tried to laugh it off. If Kageyama were there, at least he could still play, right? “Deal! Don’t take too long, slowpoke!” he said, sticking out his tongue before racing out.

He bolted down the stairs, two at a time, and outside Hinata bent over his knees, breathing hard. Why wouldn’t Kageyama want to toss to him? Help himself from what? Why was he crying? It didn’t make any sense. He clutched his shirt, around his chest area, and tried to smile as tears fell one by one onto the pavement.

There was something his heart remembered that he couldn’t, and only Kageyama knew what.

...

“Found him~!” Hinata had shouted cheerily. Everyone turned to see the redhead, followed by a much taller, dark haired, navy-eyed teenager.

“This is Kageyama Tobio, freshman like me! Say hi,” he said, elbowing him.

Kageyama looked at him, concerned by his slightly reddened eyes, but nodded to everyone in the room in acknowledgement. At the far side of the gym, a short teenager with dark hair, dyed blond but clearly not done so properly, studied him, and his shoulders stiffened.

“Nice shorty!” Kuroo cheered, and Hinata kicked a volleyball at him, smacking him on the face.

“You’re tall, dammit!” a familiar voice called, and he blinked. It was... Nishiniya? He recognized him when he went to that one practice with Hinata, and remembered that his receives were nearly perfect. And that he was rather loud. The shorter player marched up to him, and asked, “What’s your height?”

“190 cm,” he responded, trying to gauge the other’s height.

“Dammit to hell!” he cursed again, stalking off to fight people as other players began mocking him.

“That’s Nishinoya, the university’s official libero,” Hinata whispered. “He’s 165 cm.”

Kageyama nodded, and looked at the other players. He recognized some from Karasuno High’s volleyball team, while others he only vaguely remembered from their prefecture’s matches, some he knew were from other cities. “Nishinoya’s the only one actually on the university’s team here,” he said, and Kageyama looked at him in surprise. “Everyone else just likes playing for fun.”

“What about you?” he asked him, and Hinata only gave a sheepish smile.

“No, not me,” he responded, waving it off. He wanted to ask why, but was interrupted by someone else, a bald person he recalled to be Tanaka. “Oy! Let’s get this party started!”

Cheers responded, and everyone assembled. There were just enough players, so the bleachers were empty, save for Kenma and everyone’s belongings.

The game started with the other team’s setter serving. It was fast, but nothing the players on his side couldn’t manage. He learned quickly that there were a number of rather talented players here, including a dark, wild haired wing spiker up front, a silver haired and equally loud player on the other side (he later caught that his name was Bokuto) the other setter, and Nishinoya.

As the condition stated, he only tossed to Kuroo and Tanaka, leaving Hinata as a simple middle blocker. It was a disadvantage, he knew, but at this point he couldn’t bear to feel the swell of pride he always did after Hinata spiked one of his tosses. It seemed Hinata already explained to everyone at some point, so no one asked questions, but he kept receiving odd looks. It was fine though, Kuroo and Tanaka were both quite good, and they responded to his tosses well.

When it came time for him to serve, he wiped the sweat on his brow, taking his position. Nishinoya wasn’t making things easy for them. He had managed a few quicks in with the others earlier, but the success rate wasn’t high, due to the other team’s defense and the fact that they hadn’t practice with Kageyama before then.

 _If Hinata played decoy,_ _we’d easily win,_ he thought, throwing the ball into the air. To make up for the handicap, he supposed he’d have to score a couple on his own.

With precision, he slammed the ball to the opposite end of the court, the ball going straight down the side. Nishinoya hit the floor outside the court, landing on his feet as he missed the serve. The teenager watched the ball bounce of the wall, eyes wide. The court was silent for a moment, before cheers and yells broke out.

“Shit Kageyama, that was amazing!” Tanaka crowed, grabbing Hinata to tousle his hair. “You didn’t tell us this guy was _that_ good!”

“I-I didn’t know either,” he stammered, flustered. “This is the first time I’ve seen him play.”

“Kageyama, you ass! I’ll get the next one!” Nishinoya challenged, already positioned to take the next. Despite the insult, he was grinning. He knew the older boy liked a challenge.

Kageyama and Hinata looked at each other for a moment, before he turned to serve again, and the redhead went back to his spot. The next few serves scored without interference, but before long, as he sensed would be the case, Nishinoya got the hang of it and managed to touch one. The next one was received solidly, though not to his own setter.

“Free ball!” someone on his team shouted, and Kageyama watched Hinata stare at the ball as it hovered in the air, sweat rolling down his temple. His hand floated to the air, before dropping again by his side. More than anything, Kageyama knew, Hinata wanted to call for a toss.

And he wanted to comply.

It was wrong, it completely went against what he promised, but he couldn’t help himself. He was having too much fun. And most importantly...

Hinata didn’t belong on the ground.

“Hinata!” he shouted, and his head quickly turned to face him. He positioned himself for a toss, settling into the familiar motions he had went through so often in high school. For the first time, he regretted not practicing his tosses more—he was rusty and he knew it. From the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of orange cross the court.

The ball lightly tapped his fingertips, before vaulting into the air. It was close to the net, and falling at a reasonable pace; a little fast, but it would still connect.

Hinata jumped.

 _Good_ , he thought, This should be enough—

A large _smack_ resounded across the court, as Hinata hit it. But something seemed off. The timing of his swing was too quick, as though purposely rushed. The ball flew way out of bounds, creating a series of noises among the bleachers. His eyes widened as Hinata landed heavily on the ground, kneeling as he clutched his left side.

 _This is it,_ he thought, face paling. _This is it, I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up—_

“Shouyou!” Kenma shouted, standing up in panic but falling to his knee. Kuroo and Akaashi quickly rushed to help him, but everyone else hurried to Hinata.

The redhead suddenly fell over, and Kageyama screamed.

...

“Are you okay? Do you need water? Ice? Anything?” Kageyama rambled frantically, as the two walked to the locker room to change.

Hinata jumped as Kageyama suddenly bent over in front him. “Here, I’ll carry you.”

“It’s fine!” he insisted, slapping him on the shoulder. He grinned at the new setter. “I’m sorry if I scared you, it happens every now and then. It’s the reason why I didn’t try out for this university’s team.”

“Why?” he asked, then knew the answer as soon as the word left his mouth. After Hinata opened his locker, he pulled the shirt over his head, and Kageyama dropped the water bottle he was carrying.

A large scar, rough and prominently dark against his light skin, stretched from over Hinata’s stomach area and snaked towards the back to who knows where. It was almost as wide as his palm, and in length it easily reached from the tip of his finger to his elbow. How far did it go? Where did the pain end? Where did it start?

“Um... yeah. I got in an accident sometime during high school, and this is the aftermath,” he laughed awkwardly, looking away as he put a new shirt on. “It’s fine normally, but when I move around a lot it hurts so much sometimes that I pass out, which is why I don’t play on teams anymore. It’s really strange, I don’t remember much about what happened.”

_...Fuck._

“But you know, it’s fine! I can still walk and go to school and play volleyball, even if not professionally—”

Hinata abruptly yelped in surprise as Kageyama grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking as he sobbed, facing the floor. “Oh my god I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t mean for this to happen and it’s my fault and bloody hell don’t you dare fucking forgive me—”

“K-Kageyama?!” he asked in alarm, listening to his blabber. “This can’t be your fault! You—” Suddenly it all made sense to him, and Kageyama quieted down. “...You were there?”

He nodded without looking up, and his arms fell uselessly to his sides.

“...Tell me what happened,” he asked in a firm voice. He didn’t sound angry, only curious.

Kageyama took a deep breath, covering his eyes with his hand. “I was walking you home one day—you were going to introduce me to your family. It was dark, and there was a lot of ice around. We were crossing when a driver tried to stop but slid on a patch, and couldn’t. You pushed me out of the way and got hit.” The memory was fresh in his mind, no doubt from the infinite amount of times he had nightmares about the scene and the waking hours during the day he spent thinking about it. He remembered every detail, from the idle thought he had about taking his hand to cross, to the sound of the tires, to the bite of the cold and the snow that fell around them and disappeared into Hinata’s blood.

“Kageyama, look at me,” Hinata said, gently taking Kageyama’s face into his hands. He raised his head, but his eyes remained downcast.

“Were we using the crosswalk?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes.”

“Did the light say we could go?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you look both ways?”

“I did.”

He finally looked up to see Hinata smiling, and he tried to turn away from the painfully bright eyes that didn’t have the smallest drop of anger in them, but the older boy wouldn’t let him.

“Was I happy up until that point?”

Kageyama brought a hand up to one of Hinata’s, and replied quietly, “You were smiling a lot.”

“And you?” Kageyama thought his heart would break. “Were you happy to be with me?”

The answer came immediately. “The happiest I’ve ever been,” he choked.

“...Then there’s nothing to blame yourself for,” he said simply. “It was just a bad time, and a coincidence that we happened to be there. If you made me happy back then, then I don’t regret what I did. So don’t you regret it either.”

“I’m a curse.” His eyes widened as Hinata wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down.

“Don’t say that. Kageyama, I’m missing memories—even though you told me this now, I still can’t remember anything, and I don’t know if I ever will.” His grip tightened. “There’s a _lot_ of memories missing, so many that it scared me. But if all the ones that are gone are the ones you were in, then all that means was that during that whole time, you were taking care of me.”

“I did a really fucking shitty job,” he said, burying his face into Hinata’s shoulder.

Hinata laughed. “You can’t fight a car, Kageyama. I’ll say it again, and I’ll say it until you believe me: it’s okay, it’s not your fault, and I’m glad you’re here.”

With each word, he felt an ocean of fear and sadness receding. He felt as though a weight were lifted off his chest, the weight that made it so hard to breathe for months—years—on end, replaced by Hinata’s sunny, smiling self. It was okay. It was _okay._

“I’m really glad you’re okay too,” he said, his voice muffled. He meant it. All he ever wanted was to see Hinata smiling, even if it wasn’t at him. He was prepared for it, or at least, he tried to prepare for it, and in doing so he locked his only friend out.

But he came back barging into his life, as forceful as the day he first met him, as relentless and honest and sincere as he had always been and what Kageyama loved him for.

Hinata pulled back, and he said, "Ah, but I'll only forgive you on one condition."

"Anything," came his immediate response.

The redhead grinned. "Toss the ball to me."

He blinked, and smiled where Hinata couldn't see.

"Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I read this the more I realize how mild and strange Kageyama is //laughs I'm no good at writing angry characters, I so rarely get angry myself--//begs for forgiveness--Thank you very much for reading!! I think I cried a little, everyone on this site is so kind huhuhu ;////; If it's not too much, please leave feedback on the way out..!! Even if you say there's something you don't like, any kind of input would be greatly appreciated <3 I wish you all the loveliest day!


	3. "His Serves Were Fucking Ridiculous"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people start to remember Kageyama. Hinata is oblivious to the fact that he can be absolutely terrifying. Tsukishima breaks the law (just a little).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok first of all I need to tell you guys that I love you all so much like I cried of happiness from all the nice comments you gave me last chapter, I thought abt u all throughout the week and crieD ABT IT TO MY FRIENDS THAT'S HOW IMMENSELY HAPPY I AM AHHHH //SOBS 5EVEr thank you all so so much..!!! Your encouragement gives me so much life I can't even--I feel like updating this fic for the rest of my life (all the same, don't be afraid to constructively criticize!! Lord only knows I'm a flawed writer, and I can't let my ego grow too big huhuhu)
> 
> I hope you like it!

“Kageyama!” He jumped as Hinata suddenly slammed his door open, eyes bright and cheery as always —he had stopped locking his door during the day, if he was in it. On some days however, like that moment, when Hinata scared the living shit out of him, he regretted it. Though, even if he did lock it, it’s not as though he wouldn’t open the door for him, and having to get up to open the door for him all the time would be annoying. He was his frequent (and only) visitor.

“Play volleyball us again today!” the redhead asked him, but he turned back to his work in response.

“Yesterday, your exact words were: ‘Just for _today_.’ And, I repeat, that was yesterday.”

“But it was so much fun with you there,” Hinata whined. “And you said you’d toss to me!”

“But _you_ said I’d only have to fill in _yesterday_. I can toss to you when we’re by ourselves,” Kageyama reminded him. After the game the other day, Hinata had made him promise not to play volleyball so late out himself again—he’d noticed the physical toll it was taking on his friend—and that if he _were_ to make such excursions, he’d let him know so that he could at least keep the setter company.

“Plus, I could protect you!” Hinata had joked, and Kageyama only scoffed. “From what, fellow insects?”

It wasn’t as though Kageyama was repulsed by the thought of playing with his fellow university students—Hinata had said they were just casual meet-ups, and the boy wasn’t lying. He liked the lack of pressure on the court, not having to worry about making a vital mistake that would keep him from playing another game. And everyone there was amiable enough. No, there was a slight problem with him going back, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to...

It’s that they wouldn’t remember him. And Hinata wouldn’t know why they didn’t remember him. The other day, he had confessed to Hinata that he was far more than just a schoolmate, but the redhead didn’t know anything about him as a person other than what he told him; he just believed that the reason he forgot Kageyama was solely because of the accident (which in his case, was true). Hinata didn’t remember his condition, nor did Kageyama explain it to him again. He was probably stalling and he knew it, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe he wasn’t inclined to hear another promise from the redhead, the most sincere person he ever knew, which he knew would escape from his mouth the second he found out about his condition. It wasn’t as though he were lying to the older boy—him being forgettable by pretty much everyone else never affected Hinata at all—but the fact that he was hiding such a major part of himself made him feel just a little guilty. But it didn’t seem to be a good time to mention it.

He had a feeling after today though, that he would end up telling him again, when he returned flustered and angry and just as upset as he was when his teammates forgot about Kageyama three years ago. But until then, he probably wouldn’t believe him, even if he did tell him right that moment.

“...I’ll go next time,” he compromised. “But you told me I wouldn’t have to go today, so I won’t.”

“...Fine...” Hinata relented, pouting. They both had their promises to keep, after all. “But you’re missing out!”

“...Hinata,” he said slowly, looking up. The redhead blinked from the doorway.

“You’re better off not saying anything about me today,” he told him hesitantly. If Hinata didn’t mention him, he wouldn’t get into conflict with his friends when he realized they didn’t know who the middle blocker was talking about. However, he also knew that Hinata being able to keep his mouth shut the whole day would only happen through sheer miracle. He sighed, trying to find a clear solution to this mess, but found nothing. Getting involved with other people was so complicated. “But if you do happen to say something, don’t get angry with anyone. It’s not their fault.”

Hinata looked at him, baffled. _Kageyama_ was telling him not to get angry? Catching the younger boy’s glare at his silence, he shook his head and said, “You’re hiding something from me.” Like when he asked him not to spike his tosses the other day, his requests didn’t make sense.

“I’ll explain to you another time—when you actually _have_ time.” Kageyama pointed at the clock, and he flinched. Gods he was going to be _so_ late. “But all I’m saying is, if I’m brought up, you’ll probably end up angry and no one will be able to understand why. So don’t.”

He gave him one last look, then sighed. “Don’t talk about you, and don’t get angry—got it,” he repeated. It wasn’t as though he got angry easily anyhow. He would wring the truth out of Kageyama, eventually.

He closed the door, and flung it back open again. “But you have to tell me later!”

Kageyama waved his hand at him. “Got it already, dumbass. Go before you’re late.”

He made a face—was it Kageyama’s goal in life to call him a dumbass at least three times a day? Nonetheless, he gave him a silent raspberry before pulling the door shut, slinging his bag over his shoulder and flying down the stairs. He had so many questions to ask him—about their past that he forgot, about the hours he lost to Kageyama, about him as a person, and about their relationship before the stupid snow and the stupid car and the stupid accident that left him this stupid scar happened. If the setter was as fleeting as the day he met him in the library, flickering as he tried to chase him with an outstretched hand, he might not have had the chance to ask him. But Kageyama wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

Now, they had all the time in the world.

...

For some reason, Nishinoya was extremely annoyed.

As usual, he was crashing Shouyou’s casual volleyball meet up. He found them to be much more fun than the official practices, since there were more people around that he was friends with (the only people he knew prior to the university that joined the team were Asahi, Yamaguchi, and Lev, the last two having joined just this year) and he found himself missing his old seniors less often. On a lucky day, almost the entire Karasuno High team would be assembled, and the scrimmages and team combinations that resulted were always fun (sometimes they all played on the same team, just for the heck of it, with the addition of one of the setters). (Man, did he miss Daichi and Suga.) And hey, Ryuu was here. Things didn’t get much better than that.

The only difference with today was that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were there, while Shouyou wasn’t at the present. And honestly, that wasn’t that big of a deal. Not to say that he didn’t prefer Shouyou over that blond glasses-bearing giraffe, but Tsukishima hadn't particularly bothered him just _yet_ within the past twenty-four hours, and Yamaguchi had never done him wrong.

So, why did he feel so friggin’ _pissed?_

He suddenly gave a loud yell, startling the people around him. “Christ Noya, what’s with you today? You’ve been looking like you want to beat the crap out of someone this whole time!” Ryuu observed, and others gave subtle signs of agreement.

“These serves are making me angry!” he exclaimed. “I remember these awesome serves from yesterday—they were all like ‘gwah!’ and ‘pow!’ and ‘bam!’—like Oikawa level! I was really looking forward to practice receiving them today, and I know for sure these ain’t it!” He turned to Akaashi, whose serves he were receiving at the moment, and asked, “Did your serves get worse?”

He looked mildly offended, but it was hard to say for certain due to his permanently straight face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure whoever’s serves you received yesterday weren’t mine. We were on the same team.”

“Were there serves like that yesterday?” Ryuu scratched at the back of his head. “Definitely, no one here could have done them.” They had a lot of skilled players on them, but the only one who specialized in serving was Yamaguchi, who wasn’t here the other day. Not to mention, his float serves lacked the power the libero was describing—the reason they were so effective was because of their unorthodox rotation, not their speed or strength. As put to words nicely by Coach Ukai: “It’s not that you can’t see them coming, but that they can’t be stopped anyway.” 

“I feel like I’d remember if there were someone that cool,” Bokuto chimed.

“All that volleyball’s probably made him lose it,” Tsukishima commented, earning a glare from the much shorter player.

“Damn you! Crouch! No, kneel! Get lower than my line of sight!”

“No thanks—I’d have to be lying down.”

He shot an irritable glare at him. Shouyou was _much_ preferable to this piece of shit, he decided.

“Well, who made these magical serves?” Kuroo asked, strangely enough not a hint of his usual mocking or sarcastic tone in his voice (sass and Kuroo were usually synonymous) but he found himself unable to answer the wing spiker’s innocently curious question, and a drop of sweat ran down his temple.

“Ugh...” Why couldn’t he remember?

Tsukishima snorted. “You remember the serves but not the person who made them? How rich.”

“Shut up! You weren’t even here yesterday!” he retorting, whipping a volleyball at him. The blond easily dodged the projectile, bearing a smirk on his face.

Akaashi gestured to everyone behind him, and said, “Everyone that was in the game yesterday is right here, save for Hinata. Are you saying it was him?”

He shook his head. “It definitely wasn’t him. But I know there had to be someone else!” Before anyone could protest, he extended both his arms and turned them over, exposing the insides to everyone. Pairs of eyes widened in shock, some accompanied by grimaces.

“Did someone like, pummel you?! That’s one hell of a bruise!” Ryuu said in awe.

Nishinoya held up a volleyball to the wound, proving it was similar in size. “I was only able to get _one_ serve yesterday—they were crazy strong and precise, I can’t imagine the number of hours that went into them.” He lowered his arms, tugging his bangs with a rather discontent look on his face. “I get why you don’t believe me, since I can’t remember their face or name at all... but no matter what, these bruises aren’t a lie!”

The room was silent for a moment, before Kuroo turned to Kenma, who was observing the whole ordeal from the bleachers. The blond had claimed that his ankle didn’t hurt anymore, but everyone (mostly his boyfriend) insisted that he sit out one more practice, just to be safe. “What do you think, Kozume dearest?” he asked him. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

He kept his eyes trained on the floor in response, gaze idly shifting over to his right. “To be honest, I can’t remember these serves either. But don’t you think that the fact we even played yesterday is kind of strange?” The faces of the more intelligent players immediately paled, while the others listened on in confusion. “I injured myself right in the beginning. The game couldn’t have continued without another setter, but I’m pretty sure it did.”

Something clicked with Kuroo, whose expression lit up in realization. “That’s right, that’s right—shorty went to go look for someone, didn’t he?” There’s no way he would ever forget that moment! After all, the love of his life gave him a kiss right after.

“And... who did he bring back?”

He got only silence in reply. Glances were exchanged throughout the room, and he watched as the level of panic slowly rose.

“There’s a ghost in our midst!” someone shouted, and he was met with frantic denies in response.

“No way—ghosts aren’t real!”

“How do you explain what’s going on then?!”

“Maybe Noya really has gone crazy—”

“Bastard! I heard that!”

“I finally come back and there’s some American horror shit going on,” Tsukishima muttered, and beside him, Yamaguchi gave a rather awkward smile.

“Now, now, I’m sure there’s some kind of reason for this,” he said in attempts to console everyone, but, being that the majority of the boys in the room were excitable idiots, his words didn’t have much effect. 

“Just get Hinata down here already!” a player called, and he was echoed with nods of agreement. Kenma was already on it, however, sending a text to the redhead. He squirmed in his seat a little, not being too comfortable with all the attention he was currently receiving. He didn’t change all that much from high school; he was more open about his interests, but his social skills hadn’t improved by a large margin, and he wasn’t looking to improve them.

After a few moments, Kenma looked up at everyone. “Does the name ‘Kageyama’ ring a bell?”

The boys exchanged puzzled glances; apparently, it didn’t.

“Ah, how do I say this...?” Bokuto said slowly, locking his hands behind his head. “Like, it doesn’t sound familiar, but it doesn’t sound wrong either?”

“Yo, baldy, do you remember much about the tosses we got yesterday?” Kuroo asked Tanaka. “I’m willing to bet my rad hairstyle this magical server was responsible for those too.”

“I ain’t bald, and your hair is trash!” Tanaka retorted, grinning in satisfaction as Kuroo stumbled over with a hand clutching his chest, before his eyes widened and he smacked his forehead. “That’s right! We scored points yesterday! Dammit—I can’t remember the guy’s face either, but those tosses were fantastic! Like, it feels like the ball is already there, even before I swing—it was a really weird feeling, I don’t think I got used to it.”

He seemed to recover somewhat after Bokuto slapped his shoulder in consolidation. “I know what you’re saying man, I don’t think I did either,” he managed to cough out.

“He sounds like a very talented player,” Akaashi said mildly. Good at serves _and_ tosses? Even Nishinoya found him comparable to Oikawa Tooru, who he had always admired in high school. He sounded like a dream setter; as someone who played the same position, he didn’t find it odd to want to meet the guy—or, as it seemed, despite the oddity of it all—remember him.

‘ _Neighbor_...’ Kenma thought, hand on his chin and feeling more disturbed by the situation by the second. He was normally observant and didn’t forget things easily—but logged on his phone was an entire conversation that he had with Shouyou just a few weeks ago, yet he had no recollection of it whatsoever. A few conversations about the infamous neighbor had followed, usually with Shouyou complaining, but in later texts the redhead had expressed being friendly with him (or trying to be) and being immensely excited upon finally finding out his neighbor’s name.

He let out a sigh of relief when his friend walked, in, smiling grandly. “Hi everyone! Sorry for being late,” Hinata greeted, and Kenma saw him jump back in surprise a little as heads snapped to look at him. “Er... did I do something?”

The players awkwardly glanced around the room—how to ask this? “Uh, Hinata...” Bokuto said, clearing his thought awkwardly. “This might sound weird—but did you bring someone here yesterday?”

The majority of the boys had expected him to protest doing such a thing—after all, how could they forget a new face around here? It’s been a few weeks into the semester already, so everyone who was interested in the club was already in it. They didn’t all know each other’s names just yet, but a comfortable atmosphere had developed between them. Someone turning up just out of the blue should most definitely have attracted their attention.

However, the redhead did something stranger: a look of hesitation crossed his face, and everyone guessed immediately that he was hiding something. If needed, Hinata would defend a secret to his very last breath, but he wouldn’t do it with much grace.

A few of the older players immediately jumped him, anxious from the potential thought of them being corrupted by a ghost (a conclusion that some boys had somehow managed to reach within the last two minutes). “Don’t screw around Hinata! Our lives are in danger here!”

“What?” he sputtered beneath the sea of volleyball players.

“Come on, you can tell us anything!” Tanaka said in attempts to be motherly, but the half smile, half glare that resulted was actually quite terrifying. Hinata quaked as demonic auras developed him—he hadn’t felt an atmosphere like this since playing Dateko!

_‘But if you do happen to say something... don’t get angry, it’s not their fault.’_

Okay, so Kageyama had expected him to spill (gee, thanks for the faith) and therefore devised a backup plan: don’t get angry. He could do that.

Hinata looked around before putting his hands up nervously. “I didn’t bring anyone other than Kageyama?” What kind of answer were they looking for anyway? It’s almost as if—

“‘Kageyama’ is real!” someone exclaimed.

Hinata looked at the player in disbelief. “Of course he’s real! I brought him yesterday!”

“Yeah, but... I don’t remember him at all,” another person admitted. The redhead’s eyes widened, and he rushed over to Kenma and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Kenma?! What’s wrong with everyone?! Did they hit their heads?! Do I call the nurse?!” he asked frantically. What on earth was the setter hiding from him? Forget about being angry—he was worried about everyone having concussions! Was the game yesterday that intense?

His heart sunk as Kenma didn’t console him. Instead, the older boy asked slowly, “Shouyou, this ‘Kageyama’ person... is he your neighbor?”

He nodded quickly, feeling himself come closer to short-circuiting by the second. He thought Kenma had figured it out already, but he supposed that even someone as smart as him needed clarification every now and then.

But that’s still didn’t answer his question: did everyone go fucking insane?

“I’m sorry, Shouyou, I’m just as confused as you,” Kenma said apologetically, and he gently took Hinata’s hands off his shoulders. “Don’t be angry—“

There it was again. Don’t be angry, don’t be angry. Be angry about what? What was there to be angry for?

“—But Kageyama, and this conversation we had about him... I don’t remember at all. I only asked because I saw it in my message history,” he said.

His eyes blanked. “You... don’t remember Kageyama?” The ex-Nekoma setter shook his head, and Hinata turned around. Everyone’s faces said the same thing.

He took a step towards them. His face felt hot, and his movements were stiff. “He’s really tall, and his face looks angry most of the time.” His voice was calm, barely audible, but no one dared speaking over him. He took another step, and the gym suddenly felt colder. Everyone suddenly felt aware of the darkening sky outside, and the leaves blowing in. Some people backed up, but those he knew before university didn’t. They'd seen Hinata completely snap before, and they could tell already that this wouldn't be the case. So long as it wasn't, they could hold their ground. “It took me forever to get him to come here, and I had to—” He paused, then took a deep breath before continuing. He would _not_ tell them that he cried. “He tossed to you guys—Kuroo, and Tanaka.”

“Yeah, I vaguely remember that,” Kuroo said, trying to keep his voice even. He hadn’t seen that look in shorty’s eyes since their last game—someone needed to tell Hinata that sometimes he was scary enough to send grown men running for the hills, but it probably wouldn’t be Kuroo saying it, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it that minute, when the kid looked about ready to murder someone. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when Hinata relaxed a little, and his demeanor softened.

“But just vaguely,” Tanaka added, unintentionally managing to calm Hinata, as he usually did. “Like, I have no idea what he looks like, and I didn’t know his name until Kenma mentioned it.”

“Shouyou,” Nishinoya said, and catching his attention. “...Is he good at serves?” Of all the people there, only Noya was never intimidated by the slightly taller boy; just a bit apprehensive. Likely because he often got just as heated.

Hinata grinned, and the sunny middle blocker they all knew was nearly back, and thankfully his departure was brief. Not that they didn’t love Hinata for who he was, but his intimidating side was rarely preferable to his smiles. Rarely. It did come in handy, sometimes. “Yeah, he really is! It surprised me too—and you captured and accused me of hiding it from you,” he complained to Tanaka.

“Okay, _that_ I don’t remember.”

“I’m starting to think you guys have selective memory.”

Nishinoya made a face. “Hey, I didn’t choose to forget him—I need to pay back the guy who made me zip around the court to catch his idiotically strong serves, and that’s not happening if I don’t remember his face. Even Yamaguchi's serves are less tiring to receive.” He rubbed his shoulder, which tensed in reaction to Shouyou getting riled up. He was pretty sure the redhead had been an assassin or something of that nature in his past life. “I feel like there was something else about him that annoyed me though...”

“He’s way taller than you,” Hinata replied sweetly, and he was echoed by howls of laughter.

A tick mark appeared on his forehead. “Bring him down here so I can knock him down a peg!”

“Yes, please do bring him,” Akaashi said, walking up to him. “I’m sorry to tell you I can’t remember him at all, but maybe it’s because I wasn’t on his team? Though it’s strange anyway...”

“Shouyou, really—I’m really sorry, I feel like a bad friend,” Kenma said to him, eyes downcast. “I don’t know why I’m forgetting someone so important to you—“ He was instantly silenced as Hinata tackled him with a hug.

“Don’t you ever say that,” Hinata told him earnestly. “You’re an amazing friend, and you’re the reason why I managed to finally drag Kageyama here in the first place. He kind of warned me that something like that would happen—I didn’t understand then, but now I think I do. And he said that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. If he won’t blame you, neither will I.”

Kenma blinked, then smiled as Hinata pulled back. For all the casual touching he did, hugs were actually quite rare. Because of that, he found comfort in them, rather than awkwardness that he felt when receiving such affections from anyone else. Besides Kuroo, of course.

“You can’t remember him, but you know he’s important to me?” Hinata questioned.

“Well, it’s not often you get that angry,” he told him, and for some reason, Hinata flinched. Did the dense youth really not notice himself seething at all?

“This is touching and all, but I came here to play,” Tsukishima drawled. “Drag your beloved _Kageyama_ down here already, so we can start before I die of old age.”

“You’d die from being too close to the sun sooner!” Hinata retorted, sticking out his tongue. “And besides, it’s not really like I can call him. He doesn’t have a cell.”

“Who the hell doesn’t have a cell in this day and age?” Tsukishima bristled.

Yamaguchi nudged him. “Tsukki, if you helped him, we won’t have to wait for Hinata to go to his dorm and come back.” Hinata looked confused. How could Tsukishima help him with this?

“Or, we can leave.”

“We already went through trouble to come here though.” Neither of them dormed here—they commuted via subway every day, and they’d have to wait a few hours regardless for the next one.

Tsukishima rubbed his temple, and everyone’s jaw dropped as he said, “You realize you’re asking me to do something illegal, right?”

“Kageyama doesn’t need to be killed!” Hinata squeaked.

The blond rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, we won’t be able to play volleyball with his blood covering the floor now, will we?” For one reason or another, he dug out his phone. “I so very much hate having to accommodate these idiots. What’s the chance that he’d be on a laptop or computer?”

“Um... he was using his laptop when I left him.”

“What room number?”

Hinata supplied him the information, albeit reluctantly (“Yamaguchi, if he asks more questions I really will leave.” “Hinata, I promise, he’s not going to kill him.”) and within a few moments, Tsukishima handed him his phone. “Drop it and I wring your neck,” he had muttered.

Kageyama’s surprised expression stared back at him. _“Hinata, how the fuck can I see you from my laptop screen.”_

“Uh...” From the corner of his eye, Tsukishima stared him down. “I don’t really know and I can’t tell you anyway—but come down here! It’s really important!”

 _“I told you that I’d go next time,”_ he said, looking quite cross.

He ignored Tsukishima’s bad tempered threats in the background to the other players (“Tell _anyone_ and you’ll be afraid of computers for the rest of your lives.”) and said quickly to Kageyama, who looked ready to close his laptop, “Wait! I’m not lying!”

He watched as his neighbor froze, after he said, “Everyone really wants to see you!”

...

_“Everyone really wants to see you!”_

He nearly dropped his pencil in response. Everyone wanted to see him? What did that mean? Unless—

 _“Ah, I don’t really know how to explain it... but a lot of them kinda forget what you look like?”_ Hinata told him sheepishly. _“Nishinoya really misses your serves though! And Tanaka and Kuroo said your tosses were really good.”_ The redhead beamed as yells of confirmation came from the background. He even caught a glimpse of the tall wing spiker’s unruly hair before he was dragged away.

Kageyama ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t possible. He spent fruitless months forging friendships, only for them to be torn down after a preset amount of time, as simple and quick and even as annoying as an alarm going off in the morning. Hinata was an exception, but he was the _only_ exception, and even he—

He took a deep breath before he let his thoughts continue further. That wasn’t Hinata’s fault. And the redhead had assured him that it wasn’t his either. This time, he was here to stay.

But why was the clock suddenly halted? It didn’t sound like they remembered him completely, but for them to remember even _something_ , for a _tiny_ piece of his existence to remain in their minds, gave him an absurd amount of solace. Was it actually possible that his condition was finally getting better, after all these years? But if that was the case, why now? What could he do to make his _existence_ stronger? His heart raced at the prospect, the idea of finally being _cured_ or whatever the hell one would call getting over his stupid problem.

 At the same time, however, he was immensely wary. Was this just another stupid coincidence to get his hopes up? Was it another false alarm? Would the volleyball club members just become more faces that greeted him like they would a stranger?

  _“Kageyama,”_ he heard a small voice say, and he snapped out of it to look at Hinata. At the beginning of the call, he looked ready to pound him with questions—no less than what he expected—but now he just looked concerned. He didn’t know what to think.

 _“Just... come down, okay?”_ he asked him. That was it. He was screwed. He couldn’t say no when Hinata asked him with that face, that face that was a mixture of timidity and confusion and hesitation, but so _so_ full of concern and touched with an undying determination and never any ill intent. He was never able to, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to. 

He looked at him a moment while longer, before getting up. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

_“Like hell I’m waiting for your stupid boyfriend for fifteen minutes—give me back my phone.”_

_“He is—”_ Kageyama closed the laptop before the conversation continued further, though he sensed it wouldn’t have gone on much longer anyway. The person who talked rudely to Hinata sounded like a pain, and a familiar one at that. Not to mention, was whatever he did to his laptop even legal?

He shrugged off his thoughts and rushed to get ready. Whether this was just a cheap shot or an actual chance—he’d be prepared for either, but as always, brace himself for the worst.

...

When he walked into the gym, heads snapped to turn at him, and he had to resist fleeing. There were a few more familiar faces from Karasuno High, and not ones he was jubilant at all to see. He remembered their names now—Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi. He was certain of it now, that the person responsible for hacking into his computer was Tsukishima (from the way the guy was glaring) and that the freckle-faced boy (who looked like an angel beside him) was probably responsible. The blond and ‘help’ were never associated with each other, unless he was talked into it by a certain someone. He picked up that much from the one practice he’d been in.

He was met with a number of awkward smiles, and from some he caught an expression of fear (did they think he was a ghost?) but a handful greeted him warmly; mainly, those he played with the other day.

“I knew it! You’re definitely the one with the crazy serves!” Nishinoya said excitedly. “Do them again, I swear I’ll get ‘em all this time!”

Kageyama looked at him in disbelief. The reason they remembered him was because of his serves?

Kuroo pointed his thumb to Kenma, who eyed him curiously from the bleachers, much like the day before. Kageyama wasn’t quite as unsettled by him, however—for one reason or another, it seemed that the other setter had accepted him a little, even if he couldn’t remember him. “Sorry to have you play for just another day, but even though there are more players here today, the fact is that my dearest and Akaashi are the only setters we have. We’d appreciate your help again. In fact...” He eyed Hinata, he was brimming with excitement. “A certain shorty probably wants a few tosses from you.”

The said middle blocker flushed from the sudden attention, but he smiled brightly at Kageyama. “I would!”

“I went through a lot of trouble for you dense fools,” Tsukishima called from the corner of the room. “If you’re gonna be gross, don’t do it in front of me.”

“You don’t seem to mind Kuroo and Kenma much,” Yamaguchi pointed out, but quietly enough so that no one could hear.

“That’s because they don’t cause flowers and shit to fucking erupt from the ground.”

“Well, I don’t really get it, but...” Tanaka exchanged looks with everyone, and Kageyama turned to face them.

“Welcome back!” they all shouted. The blue-eyed setter blinked, before, in spite of himself, a small smile spread across his lips.

“...I’m back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to think about: when was the last time someone ever said 'welcome back' to Kageyama? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Honestly I'm not too happy with this chapter, it seems off in a lot of respects and I'm really sorry if you agree ;;v;; //rolls away// I REGRET NOT PLANNING EARLIER but I tried hhhh, and I REALLY wanted to update for everyone because honestly yoU'RE ALL SUCH SWEETHEARTS, what on earth have I done to deserve your love//// And I'm happy to tell you that I figured out an ending! It's bittersweet-please look forward to it //laughs// (Now for stuff in the middle--) The fic won't be very long, probably around 7 or 8 chapters and honestly 10 at most. and it'll be 89% fluff and like 11% plot. and I'm very bad at mixing the two. you've been warned
> 
> If it's not too much trouble, please leave a few words on the way out..!! I'm not kidding when I say you guys give me life, I have such a strong urgency to update forever :')) (if only i hAD THE TIME) I wish you all a lovely day/night and very nice things!!


	4. "I've 'Existed' All Along."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of the side plot for the high school years they couldn't share. Kageyama 'bonds' with a certain megane blond. (And he also fucks up royally.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO HI thank you for waiting! Honestly I can't thank you enough for your patience--just gonna mention again that as much as I love writing, I love to draw 43205x more so I can't promise when updates come! (But they will come, I love these two too much hAHAH///) (ALSO because there's a very good chance I'll be selling my art next year so I gotta prepare myself! -inserts muscle flex emoji- ) Anyway this chapter is roughly 7.5k words long, which I believe is the longest yet! I did try to cut it, but I couldn't find a place that would leave anyone satisfied. Please bear with me!
> 
> I hope you like it!

2 years ago

Hinata walked slowly to his school’s gym, hands twitching nervously in his pockets. It’d been months since he had been with his team—during his time in the hospital, he got visits here and there, but never everyone at once (for obvious reasons), and after Hinata had insisted that they focus on practice and not worry about him so much, the visits were even less frequent. He hadn’t seen a single player for more than a week.

As he approached the heavy doors, sounds of shoes squeaking and balls being slapped off the walls echoed in his ears, filling him with an unbearable sense of nostalgia and excitement. Feeling his nervousness wash away like a tide, he grinned, and pushed forward.

One second, he saw his teammates standing in place, glancing over at him curiously, and the next there was nothing but the dizzyingly high gym lights, as he was tackled to the ground by pairs of hands.

“HINATAAAAAAAA IT’S BEEN SO LONG HOLY SHIT—” Tanaka wailed into his ear.

“When did you get out of the hospital?! We’re so glad to see you again, Shouyou!” Nishinoya pulled him up, hugging him tightly once more before letting go, eyes bright and smile wide. The other second years began barreling him with questions, not a one devoid of some form of relief or happiness apparent on their faces.

Yamaguchi rushed over to him, smiling as well. “Welcome back, Hinata!” he greeted.

“Guess it’s going to get noisy again,” Tsukishima commented, casting him a devious look. “Did you get even shorter?”

Hinata promptly stamped on his foot. “I actually got _taller_ , thank you—but I did lose weight,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. They all studied him, realizing he was indeed right—his skin was paler than they remembered, and while the height difference between him and Nishinoya was just a tad more noticeable, his clothes hung more loosely on him than they used to. “Sorry, but I have to wait a few more days before I can start practice again.” The redhead sounded mournful.

“Don’t worry about it, Hinata,” Ennoshita said lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s a miracle that you can play again at all—we’re grateful for that much.”

“Nicely said,” Tanaka nodded, then shot a grin at the fellow second year. “ _Captain_.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, jaw dropping as he faced Ennoshita. “Captain, Ennoshita-san?!”

The older teen inclined his head toward him in acknowledgement. “Yeah,” he responded, smile dying a bit as Hinata’s face fell further by the second. “The third years resigned from the team, right after the Summer Interhigh ended. I got left in charge of these fools.”

“Come on man, you know you love us!” Tanaka declared.

Ennoshita looked at him, unmoved. “I’d love you more if you got me in trouble with the vice principal less.”

Hinata laughed. “No way! What did he do?!”

The wing spiker waved his hand. “That’s a story for another time—over popsicles.” Seeing the first year’s elated expression, he patted the boy on the head. “I regret nothing and will never regret, actually. Ah, and Nishinoya's Vice Captain." The libero grinned triumphantly. "He was actually the first candidate for Captain, but that position's barred from liberos, unfortunately."

"It's freaking bs!" Tanaka exclaimed. "Not that you're gonna be a fucking amazing captain or anything Ennoshita, but?! It doesn't make sense!"

"It's probably because of the rule that captains have to be on the floor at all times, and the general rule of thumb is that liberos are frequently subbed in and out," Ennoshita pointed out. "If we don't get a new setter, we'd be the first team to have a libero play the whole game even when he's rotated to the front row."

Hinata nodded politely as the discussion when on, genuinely happy for the new captains but distracted at the same time. He fell silent for a few moments, opening his mouth as if to say something before pursing his lips again.

“We lost,” Tsukishima said plainly, as if sensing what he wanted to ask. The others shot him aggravated looks, but he only brushed them off, saying, “No one will gain anything from hiding it from him.” Despite his blunt words, however, Hinata sensed that the loss impacted him no less than the others.

“It was the round before the semi-finals,” Yamaguchi elaborated, clenching his fists as he turned away. “We’re really sorry, Hinata—we would have loved to welcome you back with a trophy, but...” The other team’s defense was too impossible—it was a long, three-set game, but they were overtaken in the end.

“Ah…” Hinata froze. He normally just said whatever surfaced to mind first, but he was feeling too many things at once. He felt the hollow and gouging pain in his chest that appeared after losing in every serious match, he wanted to say, ‘there’s still next time,’ but he realized along with another brick of grief that didn’t apply to everyone on their team, he wanted to say ‘I wish I were here,’ but he knew more than anyone the extent of his ability and that _it still wasn’t enough._

But he tried.

“I mean—I’m sure you tried really really hard… We can still… Even without—”

“Even without the third years,” his new captain finished for him, smiling sadly. “They gave us their parting words and left club activities to study. Their teachers were giving them a really hard time as it was, so we made sure to send them off as positively as we could.”

“That’s… good to hear.” Something in him broke. He heard it—like glass shattering to the ground. His only solace was that he’d see them around the school, so they weren’t _gone_ gone—but he couldn’t play volleyball with them anymore. Karasuno’s volleyball team became his family, and while he was fucking _asleep_ , he lost such a major part of it without saying good bye.

“Hey, if you’re worried about not being there specifically for the Daichi and the others when they left, we plan on bothering—encouraging--!” Tanaka corrected himself as he avoided Ennoshita’s stern look. “—Them every once in a while. Like, crashing their floor and letting them know how we’re doing. It’ll be great.”

“Reckon we can drag Tsukishima, too?”

“It ain’t a party without our favorite dinosaur!”

The redhead snorted as Tsukishima choked. “Fucking—don’t mention that!”

“Dinosaur?” Hinata asked. Knowing smiles were sent in the blond’s direction.

“Another story to have over popsicles?” Narita suggested.

“Try it. I’ll shove the sticks down your throats,” the middle blocker responded with a leer.

Hinata waved a hand. “I’ll pass on that. Wouldn’t want to anger the—what was it? Bronchitosaurus?”

“It’s _brachiosaurus_ ,” Tsukishima was quick to snap. “I changed my mind—regardless of what you’re talking about, watch your back next time you get a popsicle.”

“If I had four eyes like you, I probably could.”

“Seems like you grew half a brain in the hospital. Your comebacks aren’t stupid like ‘Tower-shima’ or ‘rude giraffe’ anymore.”

“’You… _tall person_ ’ is probably my favorite,” Yamaguchi said earnestly.

“Definitely the most creative of the bunch.”

Hinata laughed, then lowered himself to crouch on the ground. He was feeling a bit tired already—no wonder the doctor said he couldn’t play for a while. “I miss Suga-san and the others a lot… but I’m really glad you guys are still here.” If the gym was empty and still when he came back, if everyone quit out of grief over the loss… he didn’t know what he’d do.

“Wait wait, were you thinking all of us would quit?!” Tanaka exclaimed. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell!”

“ _Less_ than a snowball’s chance in hell,” Noya confirmed. “We might not be as crazy as you, but we ain’t quitters! Even after this year, and the next, and college or whatever, we’ll be like Coach Ukai! Old and working and whatever, but still playing. Because volleyball is life!”

The team cheered, save for the obvious party pooper, until the said Coach suddenly shouted from the doorway, “I ain’t old!”

Hinata’s smile brightened. “Coach!”

The man stared at him for a moment, before greeting him with a broad grin. “Hinata! It’s good to see you back!”

“Thanks! I still can’t really play yet though, agh… I’m really itching to now!” He wanted to bang his head on the nearest wall in frustration.

“Doctor’s orders?” Hinata nodded, but much to his dismay Coach didn’t seem to fight it. “Can’t be helped, then. After you spent so long in the hospital, I’m not risking sending you back.” He looked around, then said, “You guys warmed up already? We’re starting with receives!” Ukai looked back at Hinata, sending him an apologetic look. “Sorry, but every member counts, especially now, so I want you fully recovered. You can be sure I’ll work your butt off once you are though, so to be honest, I’d take my time,” he said sternly.

Excitement bubbled up in his chest. “Yes sir!”

The coach inclined his head towards him a bit, then lowered his voice, smiling slightly. “As you might guess, there are a few new roles here now that the seniors are missing, so make sure you watch closely.”

“Woah… will do!” Now that he thought about it, Sugawara was their only setter, so he wondered how they would practice without one. Hinata made himself comfortable by the doorway, still not completely used to the stuffiness of the gym after his previous confinement. It felt so long since he’s been here—and it has. He worried briefly about how he was going to catch up with school (heaven knows how well he was keeping up even before the accident) but thought a whole lot more about how his body could take the intense training after such a sedentary period. He grimaced a bit, thinking about how sore he’d be for the first few weeks, and decided that he probably could take his time coming back to practice—not to procrastinate on it, but so he could build himself back up first. He did as much moving around as the staff would let him, but his efforts were undoubtedly pale in comparison to how much energy he exerted in practice.

He shifted, feeling the rough lump on his torso rub against his shirt uncomfortably. The doctors told him the scarring would never completely disappear, and he didn’t mind all that much, but he prayed that it would at least not bother him in the long run.

Because now… it hurt like hell. It was just a dull ache in that moment, but sometimes, in fact, just recently on his way to the school, it would burn like hell’s flames were gnawing at his ribcage, and more often than not he’d just knock out on the spot. He didn’t tell anyone at the hospital because he was perfectly fine otherwise, and he didn’t want to prolong his stay any longer for something that couldn’t be dealt with. He was thankful he managed to hang on today, at least, even if he couldn’t reunite with his teammates in his best condition.

“Hinata?”

He lurched in surprise. “GWAH!”

“EEK!” Hinata blinked the initial shock away, and finally registered Yachi in front of him, now clinging onto the doorway a few feet away from him with her legs trembling.

“S-s-s-sorry, H-Hinata, I w-was just—happy t-t-t-to see you—Didn’t mean to s-surprise you--”        

“Yachi!” He threw herself on her and gave her a tight hug, squeezing out another squeak from the shorter girl and her arms flew up to the air. He felt bad for not questioning her absence earlier and was genuinely happy to see another face on the team. Hinata pulled back, clasping her hand and shaking it up and down excitedly. “I’m really happy to see you too! I should be sorry—I didn’t mean to yell,” he said apologetically.

She beamed in response. “Yes! It’s been so so long, I’m really glad you’re finally up and walking again!” Being the super studious student she was (and totally shy), she hadn’t visited Hinata too often, and the last she had they still kept him on a wheelchair. “Are you feeling well? Can you play soon? Ah!” She had a look on her face, as if she just remembered something. “School! If you need help with anything, you can always ask—if you think I can, I mean! Help, that is. There are probably better people so I have other friends too—” she blabbered.

Yachi, the note-taking goddess! Given that she’s learning the harder stuff, she could definitely help him! “Yachi, you’re perfect! Thanks a ton!”

Her face flushed like ninety shades of red, and she stuttered, “O-of course! Anything!” She glanced down at their still-joined hands. “E-erm…”

“Ah!” He let go immediately. “S-sorry, Yacchan,” he apologized again, glancing away and lowering himself back to the ground. Something seemed different about the fellow freshman, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. She seemed… even more jumpy, if that was possible. But maybe it was just his imagination.

He grinned up at her from where was sitting, cross-legged on the floor. “Fill me in on stuff!” he insisted, patting the ground. “It’s only been a few months, but I felt like I missed eight life times. And I only ever get the gist of what goes on since they didn’t let anyone visit long. What else changed?”

Silence from the blonde met him in response, and he turned to see Yachi staring at him. Once their gazes met, she quickly looked down, staring at her knees rather attentively.

“Is something the matter?” he asked her.

“N…N-nothing… Just…” Her voice trailed off, before she asked timidly, “Are you really okay?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I mean! I-I know I said this before, b-but I’m really happy you’re back! But even so…” Her fists tightened around the fabric of her sweatpants, before she turned directly to him and said, “It feels sort of like… you’re hiding something…”

Almost as if on cue, the scar seared, as if something was raking the wound from the inside. It was all he could do not to clench his teeth.

Instead, he smiled. “I’m perfectly fine, Yachi. I mean—I totally begged them for like, the past two weeks, and they only just decided to let me out now. Not because they were tired of me—I could tell they cared more for my health than that—but because they thought I’d be fine. If doctors say I’ll be alright, then who else is there to wait for?”

Her response was immediate, though quiet. “You promise?” she whispered. “Are you really, really okay? Does it really not hurt at all?”

‘Not at all,’ he wanted to say. ‘I couldn’t be better.’ But those were all just lies and lipservice, and he knew it’d be obvious the second it left his mouth. He was too honest. He sucked at lying.

And so was Yachi—he hadn’t spent that much time with her yet, but she’d helped him out a ton and did it out of her honest feelings. Lying to her would be unfair.

So he didn’t lie. “I can’t promise that,” he bit out, fingers curling against the floor. “It does hurt. So much. It’s like I’m dragging myself through thorns, no matter how slowly I go, or how much I take care of myself. But—” His eyes darkened at the thought of the days he spent on the hospital bed, alone and forced to stare out the window, watching as time passed and passed and passed. “—But not playing volleyball with everyone hurts even more.”

Things weren’t going to get better by him staying in his room.

“I… I can’t promise you I’ll get any better than this, or that I’m not in pain, but—” He laughed drily. “Let me pick my poison, Yacchan. Please. My volleyball career… My dream of chasing after the Small Giant… it’s only just begun. If I just sit here—and do nothing…”

Something clicked. Something very small, barely enough to make him pause. He suddenly thought of the blue flowers left behind in his room, wilted and abandoned by some unknown visitor.

“Time won’t wait for me.”

 

 

_“What scares you the most, Kageyama?”_

_“…Time passing.”_

 

 

Yachi gazed at him, almost blankly, for a moment longer, before a bitter smile turned her lips. She was right. What she saw earlier wasn’t a lie after all—Hinata trekking to the gym at a painfully slow pace, looking so horribly in pain, but also bearing an unwavering flag of determination.

However, in comparison, Hinata’s face just now when he mentioned the hospital and was recalling the time he spent there, there was nothing. Nothing at all, other than misery and darkness and whole other kind of pain that she couldn’t even imagine he must have felt, having to be separated from what he loved most.

She willed herself not to cry, feeling her throat strangle as she sensed Hinata hurting mid-conversation. Of course Hinata was hurting. Of course he shouldn’t be playing. As the manager and his friend, she shouldn’t be letting him touch the ball at all.

But when Hinata was the one who told her to chase after what she loved whole-heartedly, to be brave and face whatever risks there were, when she compared his injury to his heartbreak at not being able to play, the image of him sitting on his bed versus sprinting on the court…

She couldn’t bring herself to say a single word.

 

* * *

 

It felt surreal.

All around Kageyama, the sound of volleyball filled the room—shoes squeaking against the floor, firm commands, yells of excitement, whistles from their makeshift referee (Kenma.)

Hinata shouting right beside him.

He had no idea how this dream of simply playing on a team, in a game, with people he interacted on multiple occasions came to fruition. He still had yet to learn how to they were able to scrounge up memories of him from the depths of their mind, and was still reluctant to get used to this atmosphere when the day he might eventually have to leave was looming around the corner.

But still… it was fun. It was so fun, it almost hurt. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Stop smiling,” Tsukishima sneered beside him. “You look disgusting.”

Scratch that. Maybe there was _one_ thing he could ask for.

“Stop existing,” he said through gritted teeth. “You look disgusting.” _‘Complete erasure of this asshat,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Or at least, put him on the other team. Where Hinata and I can completely annihilate him. That would be good, too.’_

A flash of silver darted in front of them and sprung into the air, and they both instinctively jumped to block. The ball bounced off his wrist with a solid thud (repeat: his, and not Tsukishima’s) and bounced to the ground, stopping in its tracks beside a very-loudly-complaining Bokuto.

“Damn it!” he roared, hands in his hair. “It got blocked again! My all-mighty straight, the left hand of God—”

“It’s not exactly all-mighty if you have two attacks of the same caliber,” Tsukishima pointed out.

“Tsukki! How dare you talk to your mentor! Who do you think raised you?!”

The middle blocker visibly grimaced. “What? Oh gross, not you, fortunately.”

“Plus, the way you jump make it obvious whether you’re doing a straight or cross-court,” Kageyama told him. The silver-haired player had a distinct way of jumping for each—it wasn’t _that_ noticeable, but most people would be able to tell by second set at the latest, especially people in the back who paid less attention to the ball and more to how players moved.

Bokuto grabbed at the net, teeth baring. “Don’t gang up on me!”

The response was immediate. “We’re not,” the two said at the same time, followed by a spiteful look in the other’s direction.

The senior player was suddenly pulled back by Akaashi, who had grabbed him by the collar bearing that solemn expression of his. “They’re right, Bokuto-san. I don’t know how I haven’t noticed until now, but you do jump differently,” he agreed, turning towards Kageyama. “You’re very observant. I thank you for pointing out something we so blatantly missed.”

“Ah… no problem,” he told him, a little off-put by the compliment. “Um… no need to be so formal? I am younger.”

Akaashi only blinked. “Formal? This is how I normally talk.”

Kageyama nodded slowly, and said awkwardly, “…Alright, then.”

The second year smiled—and holy shit he was pretty, no one told him that—and gave him a polite nod in return before dragging the ace player away from them, likely to discuss how to remedy Bokuto’s habit from where they couldn’t hear.

“Our ball! Nishinoya’s serve!” someone called out from behind him. They rotated, leaving Kageyama, Tsukishima, and Hinata in the front, and Tanaka and some university student in the back. Kageyama gave his mental approval—the blond was a complete ass, but this rotation was good both offensively and defensively.

“Kageyama! Toss to me!” Hinata waved from around him, grinning.

“Don’t even bother asking, idiot,” he scoffed, trying to push down his own smile. “Just be ready.” Something suddenly clicked with him, and he turned to see that Nishinoya was indeed serving.

“Even though he’s a libero, since we only have six players on each team, we just let him serve,” Yamaguchi told him lightly, sensing the setter's puzzlement. Kageyama nodded in thanks, not remembering very much about the freckle-faced player at all. At the very least, he was certain he’d never played with him.

His eyes turned back to Nishinoya, who bounced the ball on the floor a few times in reparation for a standard overhead serve. Normally, liberos were taken out before they even got to the front row, since they weren't allowed to make any sort of attacks, but obviously this would be an exception—not only from their lack of players, but also because the short player had developed an admirable ability for tosses, and thus made a decent makeshift setter whenever he was stuck in the front row. The attacks looked terrible in form and were usually spur-of-the-moment, but they did their job. And while he couldn’t really fulfill the role of a middle blocker, having him in the front to receive dump shots and close spikes was an advantage of its own, and the second-year had more than enough sense to get out of the way or back up for the receive if necessary.

The ball bounced around as it was served into play, and suddenly it was theirs. “Chance ball!” Kageyama immediately got in position for a toss, and regrettably enough Tsukishima was more ready for a spike than Hinata was. He set it for the blond, who used his height and agility to get it over with ease.

The middle blocker landed with a light thud, and was left staring at his hand with a rather strange face—somehow a mix of blankness, slight confusion, and evident repulsion. “…You tossed for me before, haven’t you,” he stated.

He froze. Not today, he did. The last time was probably…

“You remember when I played three years ago?”

The other teen snorted in response. “Hardly. However, I remember this short stack here—” He pointed at Hinata, leaving no room for ambiguity and likely increasing Tsukishima’s probability of “accidental death.” “—Losing his shit out of nowhere one day because we couldn’t remember a ‘Kageyama.’ I thought he hit his head on something, but it seems that wasn’t what happened.” He nudged his glasses back in place, and reset himself for the next play. “Please do stop messing with my memories, it’s unpleasant.”

“How the fuck do you think I feel about it?” he retorted, somewhat annoyed but realizing that once again, volleyball left an opening for Kageyama to slip through and reach another person’s consciousness. Tsukishima claimed that he couldn’t remember him playing, but he certainly remembered his toss if his reaction was anything to go by. Nishinoya remembered him from his serves, and Tanaka and Kuroo recalled his tosses as well, even if they needed a little push to realize it. Kenma’s injury (though regrettable; he was rather intrigued by how the second year played and wanted to see it firsthand, having seen their matches against Karasuno) made everything else fall into place, with Hinata bringing the pieces together.

Next to Hinata (aw geez, he was being a total sap) volleyball was what he loved most. Did his passion for the sport have anything to do with it?

His eyebrows furrowed, mind working to bring bits and pieces in one place about how his curse worked, things he desperately wanted to forget at the time but was certainly scrabbling for now. He spent his entire middle school playing volleyball, but back then people forgot him less easily, so he couldn’t compare that very well to his situation now. High school… he played with Karasuno once, and managed to leave the smallest imprint on Tsukishima’s memory. He didn’t know if the same rang true for Tanaka and Noya as well, but if he asked them, they’d likely give answers similar to the blond’s; a hole in their memory would fill up.

 _'That’s what volleyball does…'_ he realized. It doesn’t leave any clear memories of him, per say, but it left a gap that only required a little information to fill. He’d be willing to bet that other people, while not many, had ‘gaps’ from interacting with him as well… which meant…

He smiled. His ‘proof of existence’ was there after all.

“Kageyama!” he heard Hinata screech. He tried to turn towards him, worry flashing in his mind, but pain suddenly bloomed on his forehead and his head snapped back, shoulder blades hitting the floor.

He heard all sorts of noises in the moments following, ranging from Hinata’s panicked yammering to Tsukishima’s full blown cackles in the background.                           

The redhead was kneeling on the ground next to him, trying to confirm whether or not he sustained brain damage, while other players who weren’t crippled with laughter rush around the net to help (that’s to say, not very many.)

“Bokuto-san! You changed the direction of your swing too early!” Akaashi admonished.

“I’m fucking _weeping_ , that’s such a Hinata thing to do,” Tsukishima gasped out, visibly weak in the knees at this point.

Tanaka and other upperclassmen were howling beside him. “Why is this so funny I’m—oh my god I can’t explain—it’s like, that seems so out of character for him? We only knew this bastard for one day, dammit!”

“He’s a riot,” Kuroo agreed, running a hand through his hair while choking back laughter. “No, really, but is he okay?”

“Uh…” Hinata gazed down at him, a bit calmer but concerned nonetheless. He pointed at himself and asked, “What’s my name?”

Vision having refocused but still a bit dizzy, he spoke dumbly, “Kageyama Shouyou.” The gym fell silent, and Hinata’s expression completely blanked.

“…Fuck,” Kageyama said immediately after.

“I’M FUCKING—DYING—HELP ME I’M LAUGHING SO MUCH IT HURTS—” some idiot wheezed, followed by a party of hyena-shrieking and more idiots laughing themselves to death in that one room than Kageyama had seen collectively the whole eighteen years of his life. He didn’t know who was doing what and he very honestly could not care less, being rather busy with focusing all his energy on sinking into the damn floor and never coming back in this life.

“I-is he okay? Should I take him somewhere?” a bright red Hinata stammered out.

“Take him to the bedroom, you’re married now after all!” someone hollered, followed by more and not exactly child-friendly suggestions that were not making either of them feel any more comfortable or less flushed in the face.

“No. Don’t take me anywhere,” Kageyama croaked. “Don’t touch me. Ever. Or look at me. Actually, please burn your eyes out. Or mine so I’d never have to see your face again.” As one unreasonable request after another spilled from his mouth, his cheek buried into the gym floor, facing the direction directly opposite Hinata and neck turned uncomfortably, but again, he couldn’t care less, and was both praying to the high heavens and cursing himself at the same time for such idiot mistakes that no one in this room would ever let him live down.

“O..kay.” Hinata’s lips quirked into a smile. “It’s a shame, but gay marriage is still illegal here.”

“ _Please_ for the love of god shut up.”

“’Sides if we married now we’d be skipping a couple steps.”

“We’re skipping all of them, forever. I hate you, so it’s not happening.”

“You don’t mean that.” The shorter student snuck his hand across the floor to meet Kageyama’s, lightly curled and palms not touching, fingers only loosely tangled. To others the contact would look like coincidence, but both of them knew that it definitely wasn’t, and that Hinata was being a piece of shit (not really).

“I wish I never came.” The second those words left his mouth he knew they were a lie.

So did Hinata. “You don’t mean that either.”

Kageyama glared at him, still very much mortified, but Hinata’s expression was gentle and he continued. “Today you learned that people could still remember you—even if not very much—and you got to play with everyone again.” He watched as Kageyama slowly sat up, face still slightly red, but was at least looking at him as he talked. “You were so happy you got distracted, leading to all this,” he concluded, standing up. Warmth left Kageyama’s fingertips as Hinata pulled away, but the shorter player extended a hand to him. “Like I said, I don’t what’s really going on with you, and I know this is embarrassing… but I’ve known you for about a month now, and you’re definitely happy.” He paused, then admitted rather abashedly, “I know I am.”

In the background, Kuroo pointed at the two freshman and said to Tsukishima, “We all just told them to bed each other, but I’m pretty sure this is the first time they’ve held hands.”

The blond shrugged, now turned off by the pair’s gushy and lovey-dovey atmosphere. They were so obviously _right_ for each other it was revolting to look at. “They’re both idiots, so it’s only a matter of time.”

The ex-Nekoma captain grinned. “Wanna bet? I say three months.”

“One.”

“Deal.” They shook on it, wordlessly agreeing to stake ten bucks. It was the norm around these parts.

After the dark-haired setter was safely on his feet, he removed his hand from Hinata’s; not because he wanted to (lord knows he didn’t) but he was aware that they were in the midst of volleyball idiots with no chill, and he had enough to be embarrassed about for a day. He opted instead for knocking a fist against the other student’s temple. “How you can say such embarrassing shit out loud is beyond me.”

He shrugged, still grinning stupidly. “One of us has to. I’ll spare you from any more pain—you’d be lucky if they’ve forgotten this by the time we graduate.”

“If I’m lucky, they’ll forget just in time for me to die of old age,” he muttered.

“If you’re lucky,” he agreed. He picked up the volleyball that hit Kageyama, spinning it around in his hands fluidly. “You really plan on sticking around for that long?”

“..That’d be nice,” he echoed, though he honestly couldn’t imagine it. In ten, twenty, thirty years in the future, he couldn’t possibly imagine still hanging out with everyone in this room. Once upon a time, a day felt like an eternity for him. A year or more was unfathomable.

But for some reason, he could imagine Hinata.

Kageyama took a deep breath, and turned to him. “Come with me somewhere after this game ends.”

Hinata stopped tossing the ball around. “Huh?”

“I’ll bring you to where we first met.” In on swift movement, he knocked the ball out of the redhead’s hands and spun it on his finger, matching his gaze evenly and smiling lightly.

He tilted his head, and asked, “Three years ago?

Kageyama nodded, and his hold on the ball tightened. “Three years ago I made you a promise... so I’ll do my best to keep it.”

He got a curious look from Hinata, who opened his mouth to likely ask more questions, but was interrupted by someone yelling, “Kageyama! It’s your serve!”

“Alright!” he yelled back, and he glared at the various snickers and pointed looks he got. After getting into position, he ominously slammed the ball into the floor a few times, held the ball out, and said darkly, “Watch the backs of your heads. To be really fucking honest, there’s more than a few things I’d rather you forget.”

Tanaka slapped his hands behind his skull and laughed nervously. “C-come on newbie, rule number one of volleyball is to keep your personal problems off the court!”

“I have a game in a few days Kageyama, please don’t behead me with your power serve,” Nishinoya said quickly in an effort to save himself.

He shrugged. “Accidents happen.” With that, he stepped back, aimed, and let the ball fly.

“OW—you fucking _bastard_ —”

“Whoops, my hand slipped.”

“Holy hell, he actually did it! None of us are safe anymore!”

“Tsukki! Are you okay?! You had that one coming for a while though, to be honest…”

“Fuck off, Yamaguchi.”

 

* * *

 

 

2 years ago

“Wah! Noya senpai is so cool!” Hinata marveled, watching Karasuno’s practice match. As Ukai had promised, there were slight changes to how they played since their setter wasn’t with them anymore, and currently Nishinoya was taking care of setting up attacks. He had broadened his horizons quite a bit, so when he got a ball off the other team that was slow enough to be tossed he did so skillfully, and when it was too quick he either sent a soft receive right to a wing spiker or let someone else handle it so he could toss. They were hoping a more specialized setter would come in amongst the new batch of freshmen, of course, but for now the second year was covering that role best he could.  

Yachi nodded vigorously. “Yeah! Starting from about a month from when the third years had to leave, Nishinoya-san worked really hard with Sugawara-san on his tosses!”

“I could totally tell! He’s amazing!” he exclaimed, then said hesitantly, “It looks like the wing spikers are more responsible for attacks though. Most of the time the ball will be really fast, so Noya would be forced to receive it slow enough for someone to hit it, and it’d be easy to predict where it’s going. At that point it’d be up to the person spiking to make surprise attacks.”

The blonde blinked, once, then twice. “…Wow. You managed to figure that out by yourself, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata's jaw dropped, seemingly offended. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” she squeaked, waving her hands around. “It’s just—okay, I won’t lie to you, I’m really surprised. But I’m still sorry!”

Hinata sighed. “I watched a lot of volleyball videos while in the hospital. A _lot_. I saw a lot of different playing styles and stuff, so I guess that did something. Before I just used to go ‘bwah!’ and ‘gwah!’ and just ran wherever I saw the ball going but—”

_‘I might not be able to move like that anymore.’_

“…since I’m like this now, I’m probably going to have to use my head a little more,” he said carefully. He good-naturedly waved a hand in front of Yachi’s face. “Hello? Earth to Yacchan?”

A small smile settled on her lips. “I’m alright… I was just thinking that you really tried your best, even though you were stuck in that little room… Y-you really are amazing.” She turned her eyes back to the game, and said, “You’re right about that, though. We all talked about how we were going to do this with the third years, and the same problems you said came up. Like, Noya-san would be tossing from an opposite direction when he does, so that makes things more difficult for most of the spikers, and it’s hard to make surprise attacks when he could only touch the ball once. Not to mention, he really is the best libero in the league—he got another award for it—so having him become the official setter would be a huge loss. But… Tanaka-san and Ennoshita-san really stepped up, saying that they would accommodate the best they could and do whatever was necessary. And I…” She took a deep breath. “I suggested _you_. _We_ all staked the rest on you. Noya-san is capable of making fast receives that go right to the spiker—fast enough for quick attacks—but they’re really difficult to hit. But you—we knew that you were the fastest out of everyone else and had the best reflexes, so if anyone could make those quick attacks, you could. That’s what we believed—that you’d come back, and you’d be in top condition when you did, so… Eh?! Are you crying?!”

Hinata blinked, and he indeed noticed that tears were falling, one big drop after another. He rubbed at his eyes, grinning. “You all believed in me… so I’m really, really happy.” He took a deep breath, and said, “I won’t let you guys down! I swear it!”

Yachi flashed a bright smile. “Yes! We’ll do our best to help you!” Suddenly the door beside them opened, and they both jumped.

“Hinata!” a familiar voice called. They turned to see the retired third years—all four—grinning broadly at the freshmen.

His whole face lit up. “Daichi-san! Suga-san! Asahi-san! Kiyoko-san!”

“It’s been too long!” Sugawara crowed, pulling Hinata into a hug before ruffling his hair. “They finally let you out! You’re looking pretty good!”

“Thanks! I’m feeling pretty good too!” Hinata gave all of them tight embraces, save for Kiyoko who simply smiled and patted at his hair, and turned to see the other players rushing towards them.

“You came to visit us!” Tanaka cheered.

“Is it okay for you to be here?! The teachers won’t yell at you or anything?!”

The ex-official setter pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhh, it’s a secret! We had to visit when we heard Hinata was back. Er… sorry for crashing, coach,” he said apologetically to Ukai, who was glaring but clearly trying to fight a surfacing grin.

“You brats, what if you end up making them cry again?” he scolded. “Tears stained this gym floor for like a week!”

“A week is an understatement,” Ennoshita pointed out, gesturing towards Tanaka. “Ryu cried himself to sleep for like ten days.”

Tanaka’s face flushed. “Ennoshita, you bastard! You were dragging yourself through hallways for even longer!”

Daichi laughed, then slapped his predecessor on the shoulder. “Glad to hear you missed us so much, but it’s not like we’re dead. We’ll definitely see your games if we can.”

“You did almost die though.”

“Oh my god for the eightieth time _I did not die_.”

Asahi looked at Hinata sheepishly. “A lot happened—it’s a shame we can’t tell you how he died ourselves, but I’m sure the others will eventually.”

“Azumane, friendly reminder that you’re coming over today to study and it’s well within my ability to make your life hell.”

“…He’s very much alive and kicking.”

A few snorts erupted in the room, and Suga turned to Hinata and asked, “Are you up for a few spikes? For old times’ sakes, I’d really love to toss for you a little!”

“Really?! I’d love to!”

“Oh, but if you’re still not up to it, there’s always—” he was stopped abruptly with a shake of the head.

“No, no, I can! Just a few couldn’t hurt!” he turned to Coach with pleading in his eyes. “Please, coach? I’ll be careful!”

“But didn’t the doctor—oh for Christ’s sakes don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, scowling. “Do as you please. But only a few!”

Hinata cheered and ran to the net. “Yes!”

“Here you go, Suga-san,” Nishinoya called, tossing him a ball. “Give him good ones!”

Sugawara winked. “Of course! Can’t throw shabby tosses in front of my disciple!” He experimentally threw the ball up a few times, then looked at Hinata excitedly. “Ready?”

Hinata nodded, equally matched in enthusiasm. “Yep! Never been more ready!” Excitement bubbled up in his chest. This was the first toss he’d get in ages! He bent over slightly and sprinted around, energy coursing through his limbs. He glanced at Sugawara for a moment, before leaping into the air and his arm darted out to hit the ball.

He waited.

It never did.

Instead, he felt himself tangle in the net before hitting the ground with a harsh _‘thud,’_ lower back stinging from the fall. Everyone ran to help him up, but thankfully nothing was hurting too much.

“Ah… sorry, I messed up,” he apologized, taking the old setter’s hand up.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s been a while, after all,” Suga assured him. “But still, Hinata…” he looked at him curiously. “Why did you close your eyes just now? It’s dangerous to jump so high and so fast like that.”

“I…” He blinked. “I did?”

 

 

 

_“Throw the ball anywhere! I’ll hit it!”_

_‘I thought it would come to me…?’_ he thought.

_“Then… trust me, and I’ll bring the ball to you.”_

 

“Who…?” He blinked, left to stare at the distant and fleeting memory, as it turned its tail and ran. Shadows trailed, but he couldn’t grasp them, and his chest tightened at the void it seemingly left behind.

He fell silent for a few moments, then finally whispered, “…I don’t know.”

…

Kageyama approached the hospital, berating himself yet again from being unable to tear himself from Hinata, but resigned to the fact that he very much needed to see him, and the fact that Hinata was awake and walking meant that it was only a matter of time before he would be let out.

It was always during the darkest hours of night when he visited. He’d long known that Hinata was a heavy sleeper, so going at such times was the best way to ensure that he’d be asleep, and it wasn’t as though anyone would stop him from leaving his house.

After he was admitted from the hospital, there’d be no way he could approach the redhead again without him knowing. His interactions with him would be reduced to passing him in hallways, watching his games from the stands, seeing him suffer at the library, running into him at stores…

They’d be so painfully close, but so very far away.

He stopped at the desk, and the young woman working there to intercept visitors glanced up before casting him a tired, but polite smile.

The same woman he saw every day.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked him, still typing away at her computer.

“Is Hinata Shouyou awake right now?”

“Hinata-kun… I believe—hold on, let me double check.” Kageyama looked at her in confusion. It was always either, 'Yes, he is, would you like to see him anyway?' or 'I don’t believe so, would you like me to tell him you’re here?' or something along those lines. Something with ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ basically.

“Ah.” She nodded, then turned back to him with a wide smile. “He checked out from the hospital this afternoon! Are you his friend? Perhaps he didn’t say anything because he wanted to surprise you.”

His face froze. The flowers he was carrying slid out from his hand and hit the ground, their blue hues glistening under the bright overhead lights. “Is… He did?”

“Erm… yes, he did.” The reaction wasn’t quite what she was expecting, and she glanced at the fallen buds. “Are you alright? You dropped something.”

“I—yeah… I’m all set,” he told her, eyes downcast. He edged backwards, hand slowly curling around the vacant space the stems left behind, before uncurling and falling limply by his side. His heart constricted, and he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He wasn't here anymore.

Hinata was finally lost to him.

“Thank you…” he forced out in a low whisper, and then choked, “…And good bye.”

He turned and ran, ran, ran, not once looking back and not caring where he was going. Let the darkness eat him. Let everything swallow him whole. Let the sun never rise again, because from here on out, every day would be one without Hinata.

Every day would be spent shrouded by a vast and unyielding veil of loneliness and solitude.

Just like the forget-me-nots he left behind, scattered on the tiled white floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw geez, I feel like everyone is OOC ESPECIALLY Kags I'm so sorry //lies down/ Hinata will definitely be canonically different due to his injury and experiences, and I want to use that reason to justify Kageyama's strange behavior as well, but who knows if it really would, haha. Also!! I apologize that not very much happened, but I hope it was still a good read anyway! Thank you all very much! <33


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